


The Dark Side of the Moon

by myonly_hope



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst and Feels, Canon Divergence - Star Wars: A New Hope, Canon Divergence - Star Wars: Attack of the Clones, Canon Divergence - Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith, Canon Divergence - Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008), Eventual Fluff, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Heavy Angst, Obi-Wan Kenobi Needs a Hug, Slow Burn, obi wan the thot, order 66 bc that shit needs its own warning, potty mouthed droids
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-18 02:20:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 67,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28984752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myonly_hope/pseuds/myonly_hope
Summary: You wake up in a galaxy far, far away from earth with a mysterious connection to an unknown feeling and four very confused jedi staring you down.─ With no way home, you have to learn to adapt to a new way of life where space travel is apparently as easy as catching a bus, where you must learn to master a mysterious force growing within you and where the rules mean that you will never be with the man you are slowly falling in love with.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Reader, Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 60
Kudos: 174





	1. Speak to Me

**Author's Note:**

> Reader is from Earth, 1985. Star Wars doesn't exist on Earth (sorry George Lucas)
> 
> follow me on tumblr for writing updates and snippets of the next chapter! myonly-hope.tumblr.com xx

[ **PLAYLIST** ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2GesiamtiO2lvBCnVPszbH?si=mjOnhL1uT8-cTrLj0BcHvg)

**─ 23 ʙʙʏ**

Obi-Wan Kenobi and his Padawan had been discussing their return to Coruscant with Master Yoda and Master Windu when it happened. They all felt a disturbance in the force that shook them to their core. It thickened the air around them like fog and Obi-Wan was sure he could almost taste it on his tongue if he tried — heavy. There was no flash of light or shaking of the ground beneath them. Only a weight on all of their senses.

One moment there were four people in the High Council Chamber, the next there were five. 

You appeared in the centre of the room, directly on top of the concentric pattern of the chamber floor. You were still - so still that the men around you could’ve easily mistaken you for dead. There was clearly no weapon on your person, your frame clad only in a short, white silk dress and your hair splayed out around your head like a blanket. 

The lack of weapon, however, did not stop Mace Windu and Anakin Skywalker from leaping into a defensive stance, lightsabers quickly unsheathed from sand coloured robes and held up protectively against the mystery woman that now lay before them. The force told them to be wary and they listened. 

Obi-Wan and Yoda did not follow suit, and one short look between the two of them shared the thought they both had. 

This person meant no harm.

You stirred a little, eyes squeezing shut tight so your face contoured into a frown. It wasn’t a sound or a movement that awoke you. It was a vague feeling, compelling you out of the complete darkness and into the limbo space between unconsciousness and consciousness. You felt as though you were falling - a familiar feeling when drifting off to sleep; tumbling down and down and down until the fuzzy thought of _you are going to hit the floor_ would wake you with a start. Only this felt like it had no end, and it wasn’t fast. It was slow, as though you were not falling through air, but through thick clouds of white. Until finally, the thought; _danger_.

Your eyes shot open, gasping for air as your hand moved to clutch your chest, where a weight felt indescribably heavy, pressing down onto your lungs. 

The first thing you noticed was that the ceiling was definitely not your ceiling. It wasn’t the popcorn bedroom ceiling of your childhood home, covered with glow in the dark stars. It wasn’t the slightly damp hotel room ceiling you were vaguely cognisant of falling asleep in the night prior. It wasn’t like any other ceiling you’d seen in your life. It was vast, walls that seemed to be glass windows framed in heavy dark metal curving inwards to a point more than 30ft above your head. It felt as though it were a cathedral made of metal and glass - minimalistic where cathedrals were gothic, hardy where churches were delicate.

The sky behind it was familiar. Soft blue with creamy clouds, tinged with the gold of the impending sunset. You fixed your eyes on it as you tried to steady your breathing, the clouds moving steadily across the glass windows. It reminded you of childhood. Of sneaking through the hole in the hedge across the road, lying on your back with your friends in the farmer’s fields and watching the clouds form shapes across the sky until the rev of the farmer’s tractor sent you running back to where you had come from. 

But then, something else crossed the window. A plane? No. It was too small to be a plane. Too close. Moving beneath the clouds rather than shielded behind them. They were cars? Was there a road up there? It looked like they were following a path, but no surface supported their movements. You frowned up at it. 

“Who are you?” Windu demanded after despite being awake, you hadn’t said a word. You jumped at his voice, that feeling of _danger_ coursing through you again. 

“What’s your name.” Windu made eye contact with you.

“I-I… Y/N.” You finally choked out, sitting up cautiously. Your hands raised instinctively, palms up. Obi-Wan could see you were shaking with fear, eyes wide like a deer in headlights.

“From this planet, you are not.” Yoda spoke calmly, as if talking to a child who had lost its mother. Your eyes fell on him, widening immediately. The appearance of this… Koala? Mouse? It was unlike anything you had seen before. It was _green_. 

“Wait… planet?” You whispered, then shook Your head in disbelief.

I have to be dreaming, you thought. You squeezed your eyes shut again, and imagined yourself back in the bed you had fallen asleep in. The warm double bed in an old inn in Aberdeen. Freshly laundered sheets. A thick tartan blanket. Rain pattering against the windows. The arms of…

You opened your eyes. You were still sitting on the floor of an unknown room, the wood cold against your skin. And apparently, you were on a different planet. 

“Fear not, Jedi.” Yoda held up a three fingered hand at Windu. “The force is strong with this one.”

“Th-The force?” You stuttered out, glancing up at the men whose neon swords were now retracting back into their metal handles. Neither Windu nor Skywalker returned them to the place behind their robes from which they had retrieved the weapons and from that, you knew that you weren't safe yet. Their stance conveyed that you were the one in this situation who was to be mistrusted, not the other way around, no matter how alien all of this felt to you.

“Where… where am I?” You turned back to Yoda, figuring the one that had not drawn a weapon on you was the safest to talk to.

“You are in the High Council Chamber.” Windu answered. “How did you get in here?” 

“She just appeared, Windu.” Skywalker said, incredulously. “Out of thin air.”

“I… I need to… go home.” You frowned and held a hand to your forehead, feeling the thrumming of your heart through your skull.

_Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba-dum._

Obi-Wan could hear it through the force. It was thick around you, like it had felt moments before your arrival. Only now it didn’t span across the expanse of the room, instead congregating around you, like you were a magnet pulling it in.

You felt it too, only you could feel it inside of you. It coursed through you and, what when you landed had felt intrusive; like a burning liquid spreading through you like wildfire, now settled. It flowed through your veins rather than tearing its way through you. It felt like it was making a home beneath your skin. 

“What planet are you from?” Windu continued his questioning. Obi-Wan almost wished he’d stop. He was as baffled and as intrigued as Mace Windu was, but he could sense a discomfort in you. One that needed to be left alone. He almost did stop him. But then something flickered in your eyes that made him keep his mouth shut. A _strength_. It was only because of that strength that he decided not to urge Windu to leave you be.

“Erm… Earth?” You answered, as if it were an obvious answer. From the looks on the men’s faces, you determined it to in fact not be.

“Earth…” Obi-Wan finally spoke. He hadn’t meant to. The name was just so primitive. 40% of the galaxy's planets had earth. What made this one seem so special that they had named themselves after it? He crossed his arm over his chest and raised his other hand to his chin, fingers running through the newly grown beard he had decided after the last two missions with Anakin against shaving. It was a move that made him look distinguished. Anakin joked that facial hair was the mark of an aging Master and Obi-Wan would’ve taken offence had he not thought the very same thing about his own master not all that long ago. 

“Galaxy?” Windu asked.

“Erm… I believe the milky way?” You recounted from your basic knowledge of science. It had taken you a minute to remember, the seemingly mundane fact learned over a decade ago buried beneath years of adulthood.

“Far away, that is.” Yoda nodded. “Far, far away.”

“How far?” Anakin asked.

“Intraversibly.” Yoda only said.

“And yet?” Windu pressed.

“I’m sorry, but I… I need to get home.” You stuttered out, climbing to your feet. It was only then that you noticed your attire. Or rather, the lack of it thereof. You weren't sure if it was better that you had been sent here in this one-off piece of clothing you never wore or your usual nightwear; a worn out Pink Floyd t-shirt and a pair of old boxer shorts. 

“Oh.” You covered your body, cheeks growing hot with embarrassment.

Obi-Wan stepped forward, unwrapping a tan coloured cloak from his shoulders and draping it over you. 

_Ever the gentleman_ , Anakin thought, fighting his cheeks attempt of tugging the corner of his lips upward. 

You took the cloak graciously, pulling it over your shoulders and across your chest. It draped over you like a towel would cover a child, falling down to your feet. It was warm and soft and smelled like the clean scent of soap and a spice somewhat similar to cinnamon. You ran the fabric gently through your fingertips, grounding herself in the rough, burlap-like texture. 

Obi-Wan began to back away, but as he did he noticed something on the floor beneath where you had appeared. It glistened slightly in the sunlight and he knew that the others attention was too focused on you to notice it, so he bent down quickly and scooped it up, disguising his action as wrapping the cloak around your legs to cover them completely. Once the item had been retrieved, he tucked it cautiously into a pocket beneath his robes. 

“Thank you.” You murmured as Obi-Wan backed away. 

“Home, you cannot go. Stay here, you must.” Yoda stated firmly. He began walking away, nodding at Windu.

“Come, Windu. Meditate and discuss, we shall. Kenobi, Skywalker – to the Jedi Quarters, you must take her. Her questions, you will answer.” He closed his eyes and you watched for a second with trepidation. You felt an energy grow and swell outside of your body, like a weight in the air you could sense without even trying. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to rid yourself of this strange sensation

 **Jedi, you definitely are.** You heard Yoda’s voice, clear as day in your mind, and your eyes snapped open. **What kind, I do not know.** His lips weren’t moving, but his eyes opened, and he smiled your way.

“Interesting being.” He mused out loud, turning to Windu. “Do you feel it, too?”

Windu just hummed. He looked apprehensive and stern. Where you could feel the energy of Yoda, Kenobi and Skywalker with little apparent effort, trying to feel the same from him was harder. It was shielded and unreachable - protected. You sensed a man always on guard, who always considered a position before taking it. A man who acted on logic and facts over feelings and heart.

“Powerful Jedi, she will be.”

They both began walking out of the room and you watched them leave, stunned. The logical side of your brain told you again and again - you are dreaming. But that sensation in your gut, once intangible and imagined, was now weighted and present. It told you what you feared. It told you that logic and reason were damned - _this is real._

Kenobi looked down at you with a serious expression carved onto his face. His brow furrowed and his lips betrayed no emotion - a thin line of expressionless silence. It was not serious in a stern way, however. When you turned back to meet his gaze you did not feel chastised or afraid of an impending verbal attack. It was more the look of a student watching a professor's presentation. He looked at you as if you were a lecture on a topic he knew nothing about. Focused, intrigued. It made you shift uncomfortably beneath his cloak, feeling less human and more object.

Skywalker on the other hand had relaxed a little, a small smirk playing at the edges of his lips. This entire situation was so bizarre, so unlike anything he’d ever experienced, that he was enjoying the newness of it all. His gaze, however, made you feel no more comfortable than Kenobi’s. Where Obi-Wan’s look made you feel like an object, Skywalker’s made you feel like a toy.

“Am I… I must be dreaming… no?” You broke the silence almost to remind the men before you that you were a sentient being and not some inanimate thing to be appraised like a vase at an auction. 

“No.” Was all Kenobi said. You stared at him waiting for him to elaborate.

“Yoda said you were to answer all my questions.” You pressed, when no development was offered. Then, Kenobi smirked too, moustache twitching upward. He raised an eyebrow at you and the switch from emotionless stare to a mischievous grin caused the breath to hitch in your throat.

“I did. Follow us.” He began walking towards the door Yoda and Windu had walked out of, Skywalker at his heels. You turned to trail after them but as you did, your eyes focused on what was immediately out of the window in front of you, your view finally outward rather than upward.

“Woah…” you whispered, bare feet padding over the floor of the High Council Chamber, until you were so close to the window that if you leaned a little, your nose would press against the glass. You breathed steadily, a small circle of fog from your breath on the glass growing with each exhale.

Obi-Wan and Anakin halted in the door frame, turning to look at you. You looked so enamoured, awed. It made Kenobi falter a little in his thoughts, the innocence of you stunning him a little. You reminded him of how Anakin had been when he had first seen Coruscant and the Jedi temple. Wide-eyed and eager to take it all in quickly. 

Anakin Skywalker looked at his Master, intrigued. He tried pushing a message through the force to him, but it faded into nothingness as Kenobi lost himself in his memories. Anakin frowned.

“Where… where is this?” You murmured, raising one hand and placing it against the glass. It was cool to touch but it was a welcome coolness. It relaxed your muscles and grounded you. 

The city before you was vast, buildings taller than any you had ever seen in your life. Taller than the high rises you’d seen on the news or magazines in Hong Kong, New York or London. Taller than any of the buildings you had been up yourself. Staring across the city at a cluster of skyscrapers, you were convinced they had to even be taller than Mount Everest. 

You noticed more of the plane-cars you had seen above you moments ago. They were following an invisible path, very clearly no road. Some crafts moved outside of these paths, zipping and twisting to avoid the uniform ones before darting out of view. When you looked down, you got more of a sense of how high you were. You could see the top of the building you were in, establishing yourself to be up a tower, but you could not see the ground. It was shadowed by the buildings, fading into a hazy darkness that threatened an unknown depth. 

You gulped.

“Coruscant. Galactic City.” Kenobi answered you. “Centre of the Galactic Republic.”

“How very Fritz Lang.” You murmured without thinking. You were reminded of the two shelves of worn out paperbacks in your apartment back home - Sci Fi novels you had flicked through out of interest occasionally but never read. The city before you looked all too much like the cities that decorated those paperback covers. 

“Fritz who?” Obi-Wan frowned at his Padawan. 

You shook your head and turned to look at them again. The novels had flickered a hope of falsehood surrounding this all again. A dream, crafted from flipping through novels too much. The feeling tugged in your gut again and you tried to ignore it. 

Obi-Wan and Anakin held open the door for you, encouraging you to finally follow them out of the Chamber. You took the hint, joining them as they exited the large glass room into what seemed to be an elevator. It was quiet as you walked, only the sound of the two men’s boots tapping softly against the floor, your barefoot steps making no sound at all, and a faint hum of electricity and ventilation. You barely wanted to breathe lest you disturb the silence.

Once inside the elevator, you watched as Kenobi pressed a number into a keypad rather than pressing a floor number button as you were used to. You supposed in a building this high, the numbers of floors wouldn’t fit across that wall. The doors closed slowly and silently. 

The speed of it shocked you as it jolted downward suddenly, destabilising your footing. You stumbled, knocking into Kenobi, who reached out to hold you upright. 

“You okay?” He sounded concerned.

“Jeez this thing is fast.” You murmured in response, straightening yourself up.

“You never been in an elevator before?” Anakin smiled at you and you frowned, feeling a teasing tone to his voice. “Don’t have them on _Earth_?”

“We do but they don’t go a million miles an hour and attempt to remove your spleen from your body.” You retorted and Skywalker laughed heartily. You heard Kenobi chuckle softly beside you, trying to conceal it but failing to your astute hearing.

“Your names are Kenobi and Skywalker?” It was a question, not a statement.

“Anakin Skywalker,” Anakin turned his body towards you, holding a hand between you. You took it and he lifted your hands up and down in a familiar handshake. At least some things here were the same. “Pleasure to meet you…”

“Y/N, Y/N Y/L/N.” You responded, name sounding wholly unexciting in comparison to his. But you saw Anakin’s eyes twinkle.

“Wow, I’ve never heard a name like that before.” He mused.

“Obi-Wan.” The voice the other side of you grumbled. You turned to face Kenobi, but his eyes remained fixed on the elevator doors as they opened.

“That’s your name? Obi-Wan Kenobi?”

Obi-Wan didn’t respond, leading you out of the elevator. Anakin walked a little less stiffly beside you. At his companion’s coldness, he nudged you and smirked.

“People around here call him Master Kenobi.” He chuckled. Obi-Wan sighed.

You frowned. “Kinky.”

Anakin roared with laughter.

“I like her.” He teased, and Obi-Wan’s hair shook in front of you as he shook his head.

“Not two of you.” He grumbled.

“What are you a Master of, exactly?” You asked, looking out of the windows lining the hallway you were currently being lead down. You were still high up, but you knew if you peered downwards you could perhaps see the ground now, buildings taller than this floor stretching up above you.

“Obi-Wan is a Jedi Master.” Anakin explained.

“And a Jedi is someone who uses this…” you gestured vaguely at nothing.

“Force?” Anakin finished for you. “You can feel it?”

“Is that what it is…” you murmured. “I… I never felt it like this. So… so… potent? It’s… I’ve felt it I guess but… never _noticed_ it before though. On earth. But now… feeling it like this… I suppose it’s always been there in some way. I’d just… got used to it. It was never this… powerful and… consuming.” You struggled to put words to your feelings.

“You have lived too long without learning to hold it. Do they not have Jedi training on Earth?” Anakin quizzed.

“Ani, she didn’t know what a Jedi _was_ until five seconds ago.” Obi sighed.

Then, you were led into a large corridor. It looked like the Natural History Museum except five times the size. The walkway you were led down was the size of a two lane road and looked out over a vast hall, decorated with pillars and archways the height of seven story buildings. 

“This is…” You couldn’t form the words in your head to describe it. You were beginning to think you may have run out of words to describe this place. You attributed a word to something - a pillar or a building - and then something else came along that seemed to better fit that word, erasing its meaning from your brain and making you question everything. 

You silently resolved to not comment any more on your surroundings with amazement. You were sure there were many more wonders to come and your incessant awe was bound to be getting on your two companions nerves.

They were leading you outside, to a platform where various different vehicles sat. You noticed some that were familiar, akin to those you had seen whizzing across the sky through the windows of the High Council Chamber. Others were larger, more similar to ships you had seen in sci-fi movies or at the space museum

The two men lead you to a smaller vehicle, four seats. It looked like a bumper car only flatter and hovered above the ground with no wheels or wings. Skywalker hopped over the sides of it, seating himself in the passenger seat, as Kenobi opened a door to the back seat. You hesitated, swallowing as images of you stepping onto the hovering car and it tipping with your weight entered your mind. Obi-Wan must’ve noticed your uncertainty and his arm raised, offering a steadying support for your step. You wrapped your fingers around his forearm, offering a smile of thanks as you moved carefully onto the hovercraft.

Your bare left foot trod cautiously on the metal floor of the vehicle. It was cool, and as you lifted your right foot to join the left, no tipping or lack of balance occurred, the craft almost accounting for the shift in weight as you stepped onto it. It wobbled slightly, but not enough to knock you off balance, and you quickly released your grip on Obi-Wan’s arm with embarrassment, cheeks heating as you sat in the leather back seat.

Obi-Wan rounded the vehicle and, like Anakin, leapt over the sides and planted himself in the driver’s seat.

“Buckle up, princess.” Skywalker teased, and you desperately fumbled around you for a seatbelt. You found it – only an across-the-hips belt like that of an airplane seatbelt – and quickly buckled in. 

You hadn’t realised they had been waiting for you to do so, the clicking of your belt triggering the acceleration of the vehicle. It rose up first, vertically like those rides at the amusement park that creep you upwards 100ft only to let you freefall rapidly. As if expecting it to do just that, your left hand found the leather of the seat, nails digging into the fabric as you pursed your lips in anticipation. Only, no drop occurred, instead, the vehicle lurched forward in the air, carefully manoeuvring off the space car park and into the sky.

You let your lips part, a gasp of fresh air filling your lungs. Your grip loosened and you looked outward, not sure where to settle your eyes as you took in the sights around you. It all felt overwhelmingly new. You imagined this is what a baby would feel like, opening its eyes to the world for the first time and being overcome by the sights, smells, sounds, tastes. When your eyes thought they connected with something recognisable, a small bird flying in the air above you, the familiarity was taken from you again, it in actual fact being some unknown creature with pink feathers and four eyes.

You almost wanted to cry like a baby, except your self-control forced your eyes downward, gaze taking in only the corrugated metal that made up the floor of the ship, your toes digging into that metal and your knees covered in the tan cloth of Kenobi’s cloak. It took all you could to keep your eyes down as Obi-Wan whizzed you across this unknown city. You heard sounds and wanted to know what they belonged to. You caught whiffs of a metallic scent, or warm food-like fragrance, and wanted to see if it was what you immediately linked it to in your mind – a petrol station or a food cart. But you reminded yourself it could not be that. Not when what you had thought to be planes were in fact hovering cars. When what you thought to be birds were in fact a species unlike anything you’d ever seen.

The flight was short, only to the other side of the temple where the Jedi Quarters were located. They could’ve walked. Obi-Wan and Anakin both knew that Yoda had probably meant for you to walk, so you could ask questions that they would answer. But both of them had not been in the city for weeks, had not slept in the comfort of their own beds in just as long, and the thought of being in the Jedi quarters, with their familiar sheets and belongings was enough to make them take a shortcut.

Obi-Wan helped you out of the vehicle just as he had helped you into it, with a steadying hand and the patience of a saint. 

“The Knights have prepared a room on the twenty-third floor for our guest.” Windu’s voice crackled through a communicator on Obi-Wan’s wrist. 

“No fair.” Anakin pouted. He rested a hand on your shoulder and grinned down at you, beginning to lead you off the landing platform you had touched down on and back into the building before you.

You raised an eyebrow at his remark.

“The twenty-third floor has balconies.” 

The two men led you down more impressive corridors and hallways, up one more elevator and finally, into a room easily recognisable as a bedroom. It resembled that of a hotel room. Modest and sparsely furnished, with only a bed framed with shelves, a desk and chair, a small armchair and a dresser. There were very few decorations. Nothing on the beige coloured walls and no rug on the dark floor. There was only a minimalist bowl on top of the dresser holding a few pieces of what appeared to be fruit, a lamp beside the bed, and a brown quilt draped across neutral toned bedding. 

Just as Anakin had suggested, it also had a balcony. Small, enough to fit perhaps four people on at one time. The view looked towards the city, with the distance between you and it, it now smaller than when you had seen it before.

“They’ve left some clothes.” Obi-Wan announced, gesturing to the bed. Laid on the beige sheets were matching coloured fabrics that blended into the room. 

“I believe there’s a bathroom in here.” Obi-Wan opened a door between the desk and dresser, revealing a small sized bathroom that held only a toilet, sink and shower. No bath. 

You scooped up the fabrics from the bed, disappearing into the bathroom to change.

The clothing consisted of a pair of beige coloured trousers that cut off just above your ankles, an undershirt the colour of dirt, a robe-like overshirt just a few shades darker than the trousers, and a pair of thick knit socks. The robe draped awkwardly over your body and, after you had shrugged it on, you were frowning at yourself in the mirror above the sink, pushing yourself up on your tiptoes so you could see the top completely. 

“Do you need any help?” Anakin’s teasing voice came from the other side of the door. 

“I… No.” You shook your head, turning back to the door and opening it. Maybe this is just how things were worn here. 

When you opened the door, Anakin frowned.

“Here.” Obi-Wan stepped forward, a thick leather belt in his hands. You took it from him graciously, fastening it around your waist. The top no longer looked nor felt so stupid with the material now cinched against you, looking somewhat similar to the clothes Anakin and Obi-Wan were wearing.

“Now, Yoda said you might have questions.” Obi-Wan gestured to the bed as he pulled the arm chair across the room until it was in front of the bed. “So, go ahead, ask away.”

Anakin pulled the desk chair next to where Obi-Wan had moved the armchair, reaching out and taking a purple fruit from the bowl on thee dresser and biting down into it. 

You hesitated, clasping your hands in your lap. Anakin and Obi-Wan looked at you expectantly. 

“Okay… erm…” You had so many questions but so little words to form them. It felt as though you were in a sea of unknown and trying to comprehend even a small amount of it all in order to formulate a question felt impossible. So, you settled on the little things.

“What are… what are those glowing things… the swords?” You pointed at the metal at Obi-Wan’s hip, holstered in a belt.

“Ah… A Lightsaber.” Anakin nodded, pulling out his own. The light appeared again, glowing blue and vibrant.

“And they are a weapon?” You asked. He nodded, twisting the Lightsaber in his hand. It whirred with movement, sounding almost like the buzz of electricity in the underground at night. You watched the light move, flickering and bright.

“Does it hurt? To be… to be struck by one?” You cocked your head. Anakin grinned. He stood, moving to a clearer space and then threw the half-eaten piece of purple fruit in the air. With the flick of his wrist, the saber moved, twisting from out at his side to slice upward, perfectly cutting the fruit in half. It fell to the ground, the flesh that had come into contact with the blue light sizzling and bubbling black. You looked on astonished, as Obi-Wan sighed. 

“Anakin.” Obi-Wan chastised, like a father would chastise a son.

“Why are they different colours?” You asked. “I mean… yours are blue, Yoda’s was green, Windu purple.”

“Sometimes they represent different things. Sometimes it is dependent on what crystal you have to form your lightsaber with… generally, blue is the colour of Jedi guardian – those that use the force more physically… such as in the form of a lightsaber.” At this, Anakin’s lightsaber returned into its hilt. “Green is the colour of those that explore the mysteries of the force in a more… intangible way… Red is… well… it’s a Sith colour. Usually means the wielder has chosen the dark side.”

“And you guys are… the light side?” You questioned, even though you could already feel they were. They both nodded.

“So this… force. Is it a genetic thing? Or...”

“It’s not necessarily genetic.” Obi-Wan crossed his legs, leaning back in the chair. “Genetics can play a part in it, but sometimes the universe just… gifts people with it.” 

“Why?” 

“It’s not our place to ask the universe why.” Obi-Wan simply said. You swallowed, almost feeling chastised. Like you had stepped out of line. 

“So… how do you know if it’s… if you’re the light side or the dark side?” 

“You… you don’t I suppose.” Obi-Wan frowned, unsure how to answer your question.

“Surely the force knows.” You pushed, anxiety creeping up in your chest at the thought of being _nothing_. Or, even worse, a potential _Sith_. “I mean… surely it… it has a purpose for me…”

“It’s not about purpose. Your connection to the force is as much about choice as it is fate.” Obi-Wan explained calmly. “You can always choose darkness over light. You can always let the fear win over the hope. In some cases, it can be difficult to find the light when you feel fate is pushing you into shadows, but even the smallest of light illuminates the dark.” 

Suddenly, his title of ‘Master’ made a whole lot of sense to you. He was wise. Wiser than you had expected from a man of his apparent age. It rendered you speechless, staring at him in awe. He stared back, eyes fixed on yours. He wasn’t sure why he didn’t break eye contact. Something was pulling him to look straight at you, no faltering or shying away, searching your eyes – your soul – for something.

It felt like minutes but in reality it was only a few seconds. The tension felt heavier, however, and not just for the two of you. Anakin felt it too. It was enough to make him clear his throat. 

Your eyes fluttered back to your hands.

“Any more questions?” Obi-Wan’s voice was heavy in your ears. You paused, trying to formulate another of your confusions into words. 

“You… you say that there are Jedis and Siths… Is there… Do they fight?”

“The Sith are… there haven’t been many in the last few years” Obi-Wan swallowed, thinking of his old master and the red lightsaber that had struck him down. “But… yes… part of our duty is to protect the galaxy from the Sith.”

A silence fell over the three of you as you tried to figure out another question to ask. Maybe one about the planet? The galaxy? You looked out of your new window to the city stretching out into the distance and lost all the words to form a question again.

“What is your galaxy like?”

“Erm well… I have… I have never been off my planet and… very few people have been off it to be honest. We have been to the moon but… in our solar system, as far as we have been able to deduce, the planets are uninhabitable. Many believe we are the only ones in our galaxy.”

“That’s incredibly unlikely.” Anakin scoffed and you smiled.

“Perhaps.” You mused. “It seems stupid to think of it now. What with… this…” You gestured to the city out of the window. “But… I… I’ve never seen anywhere other than Earth. I have… never seen anything other than humans and… and the animals earth has… When… when you only see that… Only know that… Have zero proof that when you look at the stars at night there is something out there… It’s easy to convince yourself that this planet you’re on is an anomaly. Now I see it isn’t… wasn’t.” You frowned.

Anakin stared at you with child-like awe. Obi-Wan’s eyes were softer. He hadn’t thought that much about the whole situation you were facing. It was another mission to him. A strange occurrence that had morphed into just another task for the Jedi Council. Now, he realised that this was much more than that. You had had everything you had ever known ripped out from under you in seconds and it was replaced with something so far from reality that you had no option but to blindly go along with it.

“What is the population of Earth?” Anakin asked next. Obi-Wan wished he hadn’t. He recognised your need to process in silence.

“7 billion.” You answered and Anakin laughed, glancing at Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan didn’t laugh. He smiled but you could tell it was out of politeness.

“Why that’s… that’s nothing.” Anakin chuckled out. You raised an eyebrow.

“Really? What’s the population of this planet?”

“Over a trillion.” Anakin answered.

“Jeez.” You muttered. “No wonder the buildings are so tall.” You stared out of the window and then stood, walking towards it. 

Anakin opened his mouth to ask another question but Obi-Wan silenced him with a short force message.

**Let her take it in.**

You stopped in front of the door to the balcony, peering out. Below you was a garden, strange coloured trees stretching upwards. Around you, more cars flew by. 

It hit you then. You had been somewhat calm about it all. Surprisingly so. Perhaps a part of you had still been convincing yourself it was all a dream. Anakin asking about Earth – about your home – made you realise you were never going back there. 

_‘Intraversibly._ ’ Yoda had said when Windu had asked how far Earth was from here. If this… this galaxy with its Jedis and lightsabers and Everest high skyscrapers could not get you back home, whoever or whatever could?

You felt tears sting your eyes. Memories of your friends and family flooded your mind. Faces that in a few years, you’d forget the shape of. No reminders or mementos. Nothing. You arrived with barely any clothes on your back, into a world so unfamiliar and beyond comprehension. You were alone.

The force swelled within your gut, as if reminding you it was there. It seeped outwards again, sliding through your veins now, no longer feeling like hot electricity, but a warm flowing lava. It comforted you somewhat, but it didn’t cure your sadness, and your tears turned to sobs.

Obi-Wan watched as your shoulders began to shake, your head bowed. He waited a few seconds, hoping it would pass, but when it didn’t, he stood and made his way over.

“Come outside.” He spoke gently. You frantically wiped tears from your face, embarrassed and ashamed. Here were these strong Jedis and you were here. Out of place, confused and _crying_.

Nevertheless, Obi Wan led you outside onto the balcony. It was then that you saw an unobstructed view from the building, outward and vast. You could see the whole city, like the one of the High Council Chamber, only now unrestricted by windows and metal, and a further distance away from it all. 

“Wow.” You stammered, through hitches in your breathing from your sobs. 

“Are you okay?” Obi-Wan’s voice was the sincerest you had heard it be all day. His eyes had softened, his stance relaxed, and he reached out and gripped your biceps gently, bowing his head slightly so he could meet your eyes.

“I just… I just…” You felt a sob rising in your throat and you bit your tongue in an attempt to quash it. “I’m alone now.” You finally whispered out, turning your head to the sky. It had darkened a little since you had been staring up at soft blue and gold. 

Obi-Wan watched. He wasn’t sure of what to say to make you feel better, so he didn’t say anything at all, hoping his presence was enough to comfort you. Eventually, after staring at the sky for so long, you raised your hands to grasp his forearms. Sobs threatened to burst from your chest, tears rolling from your eyes rapidly.

“The… the stars are going to be so different.” You whispered so quietly that Obi-Wan could barely hear you over the thrum of the city around you. The sobs finally broke free from the cage of your chest, loud and pained. You raised your hands to your face in an attempt to shield your tearstained face and muffle the sound of the heartache spilling from your lips. It was no use. The noises you made hurt Obi-Wan, almost as though he had been struck in the chest by an opponent's weapon, and the force stirred inside him, desperately reaching out for you. 

This time, he didn’t think, he only listened to it. 

He pulled you to his chest in a hug, chin resting on the top of your skull. It surprised you and you inhaled sharply at the suddenness of it, the sound coming out like a choked cry. You felt the force within you reach out for his and when you squeezed your eyes shut, hands balling the fabric of his sand-coloured robes into your fists, you could sense his reaching out too. 

“I’m sorry.” Obi-Wan murmured. He was saying it to comfort you but then, a sudden realisation of what he’d done. “I’m sorry.” With this second apology he pulled away, leaving you stunned. You frowned but didn’t question it, sighing and wiping tears from your face.

“I… I should be the one apologising.” You shook your head, turning to face the city again. You walked over, almost to the edge of the veranda. Obi-Wan watched as your hair began to flutter in the wind, now unshielded from the building.

“You have lost a lot so quickly.” Obi-Wan pressed his hands together behind his back, now ignoring the pull of the force and thinking again, willing himself to stay four feet back from you.

“Yes.” Was all you said, and it was only just loud enough to hear.

He let silence fall over you. You weren’t sure whether to keep looking at him or look back out over the city. Obi-Wan swallowed nervously, then stepped forward.

“I have something for you.” He cleared his throat, digging into a pocket of his robe and producing the item he had been holding since you landed at his feet merely an hour ago. You looked down at his hands. Laying on his palm was a cassette player. It was yours, silver metal and clear plastic with WALKMAN printed in bold across the front, headphones still attached. 

“My cassette player...” You whispered, reaching out to lay your fingers on the item for a moment, before scooping it up so you were cupping it like a baby animal. The force inside of you buzzed again, rewarding you for what you now realised had been the hope you had been clinging onto despite your sorrow.

“What is it?” Obi-Wan murmured, peering at it in your hand. You smiled, clicking it open to reveal a tape.

“It plays music, it…” You took the tape out, grasping it gently between your forefinger and thumb. The breath was knocked out of you again. It was one of your favourite tapes. Pink Floyd, The Dark Side of the Moon. You ran your finger over the pink sticky paper reading the name of the tape and it’s songs and…

_To the love of my life, meet me on the dark side of the moon._

_─ Joe xxx_

A strangled sob escaped your lips and you crouched down in order to stop yourself from collapsing. It was then that you felt it. That you truly let yourself remember. The night before. The day before. Everything.

It had been your wedding day. Your wedding night. The silk chemise. The weight on your ring finger. The tape.

Joe. _Joe. **Joe**_ **.**

His name surged through you like electricity, fast and sharp. It stung and blinded you, tears falling heavily down your cheeks. 

You had married the love of your life last night. You slow danced to Pigs on the Wing. You ate vanilla frosted cake. You drank too much expensive red wine. You watched him read Ringworld by Larry Niven in the car to the hotel, the spaceship on the cover so similar to that which you had seen in person moments ago. You kissed him in the hotel bathroom after he’d brushed his teeth, the minty taste of toothpaste still stinging your tongue, You made love under a tartan blanket as the rain pattered against the window. You… you would never see him again.

Obi-Wan didn’t know what to do this time. At first he had ignored his mind and trusted his gut, pulling you close in an attempt at comfort. Now he was all too aware of his thoughts. He had never been good at emotional comfort, even when Ani was a child. He did his best, offering kind words and the occasional arm pat, but it was restrained and always with that nagging thought: connections lead to the fear of losing them. Always a reminder of those that he had lost.

“Y/N.” Was all he could say, hoping that he was conveying some sort of concern. Some sort of comfort. 

Your hands grasped at the cassette player, tips of your fingers grazing against the back. Sharp edges dug into your skin and you frowned, turning it over. There, pushed beneath the clip of the Walkman, where you’d fasten it to your belt on your runs or on the bus to work, where you’d fastened it to the seatbelt of the plane to Inverness only hours ago, was a polaroid picture. You slid it out carefully, tucking the Walkman under your arm as you stood again, wiping fat tears from your swollen cheeks.

The polaroid was of you and Joe on your wedding day, your head tilted upwards so he could tilt down and kiss you. You were wearing a gown, lace and silk, and Joe was in a tux. Both of you were smiling into the kiss. Both of you were holding the other close. Beneath it, on the strip of white below the square, the words; **Finally. 03/02/1985**

“My… my husband.” You whispered, holding the polaroid out for Obi-Wan to take. He took it gingerly, gazing at it in wonder. It was unlike anything he’d ever seen before - the actual physicality of it, shiny thin white plastic with fuzzy colours forming the photo. Photographs as such were a rarity in this galaxy. He had seen bounty posters with faces on. He had seen holograms upon holograms. But a photo like this… 

The contents of the photo baffled him too. The dress you were wearing, the tux your husband was wearing. The decorations in the background. The hair…

“We were… We were married yesterday.” You slipped the tape back into the Walkman, trying to collect yourself. Obi-Wan watched you carefully as you straightened your back, took three deep breaths in through your nose and out through your mouth, and opened your eyes. 

“You’re a very strong person.” Obi-Wan commented, handing you back the photograph. You smiled at him, thankful for the compliment. Silence washed over the two of you, although it was far from uncomfortable. You needed the silence to process and, even if the reason Obi-Wan said nothing was because he had nothing to say, he too felt the need for quiet.

“I… I don’t know how I’m staying together.” You looked out over the city again, leaning against the railing. Obi-Wan remained standing, watching.

“I just… this is all so… strange. But… there’s something inside me that feels… at home. I want to cry. I want to scream. It’s all so overwhelming. But…” you trailed off, watching as the now setting sun changed the sky from blue and golds to pinks and oranges in almost an instant. It glistened off buildings, turning glass into candyfloss. If nothing else, at least sunsets were just as beautiful on planets miles away from the one you called home.

“I understand.” Obi-Wan said, even though he was sure he never _would_ truly understand exactly what you were going through right now. What he did understand was the feeling of being at home. He knew you didn’t mean Coruscant. He had seen the way you’d looked at it with awe, yes, but mostly trepidation and fear. No, he knew you meant that feeling inside you he sensed growing stronger as you connected more and more to its origins. 

It wasn’t the force, although that was part of it. It was anticipation. It was strength. It was calm. 

It was hope.


	2. Breathe in the Air

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A year after you arrive on coruscant, you reunite with friends and your Jedi training is tested...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it’s my birthday and i’ll write heartbreaking slow burn mutual pining fluff if i want to (i basically rewrote three whole ass scenes from aotc in here akjhsgaj)
> 
> also i said the 8th and this is going up 00:01 GMT on the 8th bc i am IMPATIENT
> 
> follow me on tumblr for writing updates and snippets of the next chapter! myonly-hope.tumblr.com xx

**─ 22 ʙʙʏ** **  
**

_For long you live and high you fly_

_And smiles you'll give and tears you'll cry_

_And all you touch and all you see_

_Is all your life will ever be_

  * .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.



A year later, and you had still not mastered the art of meditation. Clearing your mind and sitting still for hours on end was damn near impossible and you cursed whatever made it an integral part of being one with the force. 

Yoda was ridiculously patient with you. To the point where you often wished he would discipline you in some way. He never did. He never told you you were a bad Jedi. He never told you you were failing. He never so much as implied that you were doing anything wrong. And yet, here you were, forty-six minutes into a meditation, and you couldn’t help but _fidget_ as your master sat peacefully beside you.

“Restless you are, today, Padawan.” Yoda interrupted the silence. 

“I’m no good at this meditation thing.” You sighed defeatedly.

“Learning, you are.” Yoda opened his eyes, done with his meditation. “Patience, you must have.”

“What if I never get it right?” You uncrossed your legs, rolling your shoulders until they clicked. 

“Great patience and restraint, you have shown in your battle training.” Yoda stood, gesturing for you to stand with him. You did, following him out of the meditation room at the Jedi Temple and into the hallway. Your droid - R2M2 - was waiting outside dutifully, crawling beside you as Yoda led you down the hallway slowly.

“Meditation, one day you will master.” Yoda nodded, voice so sure that a confidence swelled inside you. 

“What is next today, master?” You asked, worries of failing your master and being a bad jedi washing away. 

“Done for today, we are. Returned, old friends have.” He smiled up at you and you frowned, fingers fiddling with your Padawan braid tucked carefully behind your ear.

“Oh, old friends?” You pressed. Usually your meditation attempts were followed by a Jedi history lesson in the library or lightsaber training out on the training platforms. Occasionally, you would sit in on the younger Jedi’s lessons, often learning things yourself, but sometimes assisting them with their force connection. If there was one thing you had mastered quicker than anyone, it was your connection to the force and your ability to sense things in it, even without meditation. 

“Yes. From a trade dispute on Anison your friends have returned.” 

You fought to hide the happiness that threatened to escape through your features at his words. The one thing that had been drilled into you by the Jedi Temple was that connections were dangerous. Affection leads to attachment. Attachment leads to the fear of losing it. Fear leads to the dark side.

Despite attempting to disguise it, Yoda sensed it in you. He didn’t chastise you or fear it, knowing it was part of a bigger picture.

“Go to them, you will.” He smiled, turning and heading the opposite direction he had led you in. You knew you were not being asked to follow, the landing bay the way you had been heading. “Tomorrow, continue your training, I will.” He said over his shoulder. You waited a second until Yoda had turned a corner into a classroom before you let your smile stretch over your cheeks. 

Without even thinking, you broke into a run, R2M2 barely able to keep up as you darted between Jedi wandering the halls. Some older, more committed members of the Jedi Order tutted at your lack of restraint but you didn’t care, desperate to make it to the landing bay before Obi-Wan and Anakin’s ship landed. 

You burst through the doors to the landing bay just as their ship’s door began to open, Obi-Wan and Anakin’s legs coming into view. They were smiling at one another, mission clearly a success, and Obi-Wan had a satchel thrown over his shoulder.

“You better have gifts in that bag for me, Kenobi.” You called out, trying to hide the panting breaths caused by your dash across the temple with a laugh. Both men turned to you, Anakin beaming your way and Obi-Wan smirking, descending the ship’s ramp. 

Anakin pulled you into a friendly one armed hug almost immediately, a beeping R2 finally catching up to your side seconds later.

Obi-Wan’s reaction to seeing you was much less physical. He only smiled your way, a warm and pleasant smile that made your knees weak. You had gotten used to his lack of physical affection towards you, ever platonic. In the last year, you had learned the restraint required of a Jedi Knight. You had learned of the vow every Jedi took and had taken it yourself. This lack of physicality was no longer an offence in some way. You knew that the smiles he gave you, meaningful in so many ways, were all he could give and it was enough.

You told yourself it was enough. You _insisted_ it was enough. 

You pretended that whenever he smiled your way, you didn’t think about how that first day he had met you, he had pulled you into his arms without hesitation.

“Greed is a very un-Jedi-like characteristic, Padawan.” He teased, but nevertheless, he opened the satchel. From it, he produced a small metal ball, holding it in his flattened palm out to you.

“We went to a market in Cuipernam.” Anakin explained. You reached out and took the metal ball from Obi-Wan, trying not to react to the feeling of your fingers brushing against his palm. Even the slightest touch between the two of you felt too much - what you wanted and yet against everything he stood for.

Running your finger around the centre, you found a clasp, pushing it gently. The ball popped open like a clam. Inside was a small pot of ground up powder, dark brown in colour. You raised an eyebrow at Obi-Wan.

“You haven’t smuggled spice into the Jedi Temple, have you, master?” You teased, and Obi-Wan laughed your favourite laugh, eyes creasing at his temples and teeth glistening from beneath his growing beard.

“It’s very much legal, don’t worry.” He reassured you. “The vendor said it was good in Kaf.”

You smiled. Since your arrival in this galaxy, you had searched for something similar to cinnamon to put in your Kaf. Kaf was good, almost as good as coffee, but sometimes it was too bitter, and you craved the familiar warmth of cinnamon to calm it a little. You raised the ball in your hand and sniffed it cautiously, smile widening. 

“Thank you.” You beamed, snapping the ball shut and slipping it into your pocket. You wrapped your arm around Anakin, squeezing his side endearingly.

“I missed you two idiots.” You braved a sentimental slip of the tongue, eyes briefly meeting Obi-Wan’s. His smile faltered, no longer the toothy smile you loved but a sadder one, lips closed and restrained. 

“We missed you too, bunny.” Anakin turned the two of you around, heading inside the temple with Obi-Wan walking cautiously behind you.

Bunny had been your nickname from Anakin for the last year. It had started when Yoda had gifted you a droid - an R2 unit called R2M2 - that transferred the files from your cassette player onto it’s permanent memory system. Anakin loved listening to the album. You did too, the songs sentimental and the album undeniably great, but sometimes you wished you had been transported to another galaxy with something a little more upbeat joining you. You were sure both your friends would love your Super Trouper tape.

 _Breathe in the Air_ was one of Ani’s favourites and, after a few listens, he had asked you what a rabbit was. 

“Sorry?” You had said, looking up from a Jedi text Yoda had told you to take out from the library. Obi-Wan looked up too, from his position on the other side of the room, meditating peacefully.

“Rabbit. What’s a rabbit? He says ‘run rabbit run’.” Anakin explained. You had struggled to find the words to describe it, combing your mind for a creature you had seen in the texts you had studied.

“It’s… it’s like a thwip, I suppose.” You frowned. “With four legs and floppy ears.” You stood and moved to the glass window of the room you were in. You breathed on the glass to fog it up, using your fingers to draw a basic outline of a rabbit.

“There,” you grinned at your masterpiece as Anakin peered at it inquisitively, “a bunny.”

“A bunny?” Anakin chuckled.

“Yeah it’s like… a baby rabbit. A cute rabbit.” You smiled. 

“ _Bunny_.” Anakin repeated, grinning like a mad man. “I like it.”

From that day on, he had called you bunny. 

Obi-Wan never called you anything but your name, Jedi or Padawan. It had felt cold and professional at first. You were called Padawan by almost everyone in the temple, your braid a constant reminder of your position. But eventually, you noted the endearing way _Obi-Wan_ said Padawan. It was his way of showing affection within the confines of his vows.

“How was your mission?” You asked as the three of you and R2M2 wandered through hallways to the Jedi quarters. 

“Good.” Anakin grinned. Obi-Wan shook his head. 

“Oh no, Ani. What did you do this time?” You chuckled, shooting him a knowing look.

“Hey, I saved his ass.” Anakin glared at his master and you threw your head back with laughter. Obi-Wan couldn’t help but smile.

“You were reckless.” Obi-Wan simply said.

“Hey! I was only reckless because you were reckless.” Anakin shot back. 

“ _I_ took a calculated risk. You made no calculations.” Obi-Wan argued, although arguing with Obi-Wan was never a true argument. His voice never even betrayed the notion that he was mad at you. He always had a witty comeback wrapped in a smooth toned bow. It made it almost impossible to win against him in a verbal spat, even with truth and logic on your side. Obi-Wan’s intelligence always prevailed.

“How is your training going, Bunny?” Anakin asked. The three of you were heading into the cafeteria where the trainees ate. When you entered the room, all three of you headed straight for the Kaf machine, pouring a hefty amount of hot brown liquid into white mugs. 

“Oh the usual.” You shrugged, taking a seat next to Anakin at a table as Obi Wan sat across from you. “I am a master of the force but I can’t for the life of me sit still and think about nothing for an hour.” You teased and Anakin chuckled. You took the gift from Obi-Wan and Anakin from your pocket and handed it to Anakin, who took a pinch of powder and sprinkled it in his Kaf.

“You’ll get there.” Obi-Wan smiled at you. He didn’t add any powder, sipping it black. “You’ve only been training for a year.”

“Yoda said I’m a fast learner.” You beamed with pride, and then realised the un-Jedi-ness of your behaviour, dropping your mouth into a thin line. “Of course, I’m no true Jedi until I can meditate like one.”

“Kriff meditation.” Anakin shook his head.

“Anakin!” Obi-Wan chastised and you fought a smile.

“What? When has meditation ever really helped you in a battle, master. Like an opponent is going to let you sit cross legged on the floor for a few minutes while you connect with the force?”

“You know that our connection to the force is about much more than how we can utilise it in battle, Padawan.” This time Obi-Wan’s use of the word Padawan held none of its usual compassion and affection. It was meant to remind Anakin of his place.

Anakin shuffled uncomfortably under his master’s withering stare, and you tried desperately to change the subject. You took a pinch of the gifted powder, sprinkling it in your own Kaf and taking a sip. 

“Mmmmm…” You grinned. “This is just like cinnamon.” It was a lie. It wasn’t even close to cinnamon. It made the Kaf less bitter, yes. But it was sweeter than cinnamon and offered little warmth. Still, you were grateful for it, and you just wanted to see your two friends smile again rather than fight.

You were gifted with grins from both of them.

The rest of the afternoon was spent listening to them recount their antics on Anison. If either of them wanted to rest or be left alone after their hectic mission, they didn’t make it known. In fact, both seemed thrilled to be sharing the story of their trip. It was mainly Anakin telling the tale, gesturing grandly and using his lightsaber hilt to imitate the stabbing moves he had deployed against his opponents. Obi-Wan added in small comments here and there, either when Anakin was overexaggerating as an attempt to bring his Padawan back down to earth, or to add a cultural or educational comment, directed at you in an attempt to aid you in your training.

When the story came to a close, you were all laughing, second cups of Kaf only dredges of sludge in the bottom of cold mugs.

“Well.” Anakin finally stood. “I want to go have a shower.” He declared. He looked to his Master, expecting him too to stand and join him on the short walk back to the Jedi chambers. You too expected him to follow suit, leaving you here to decide whether to return to your own quarters to relax, to the library to study, or for a walk around the grounds.

“I think… I’m going to take a stroll in the arboretum.” Obi-Wan declared, and the look he gave you suggested he wanted you to join. Your heart skipped a beat and you tried your hardest to keep your thoughts from infecting your force too much, afraid that Obi-Wan, or worse, Anakin, could pick up on your excitement.

“Oh…” Anakin faltered, frowning. You could tell the cogs were turning in his brain. Was his Master testing him in some way? Was this a lesson? Obi-Wan recognised his fear and laughed warmly.

“Rest, Anakin.” He smiled reassuringly. “I only want to discuss something with Y/N.” He looked to you, pausing a moment, before quickly adding. “Regarding her training of course.”

If Anakin suspected that was a lie, he didn’t give any indication of it, and when the three of you walked out of the cafeteria and turned in separate directions, he only bade the two of you farewell, throwing your beloved nickname your way, before dashing to his chambers. 

The walk to the arboretum was spent in silence. It was a dangerous silence. It allowed you too much time with your thoughts. You thought about how this was perhaps a test for you. Was Obi-Wan taking you to the arboretum to quiz you on plants? Was he going to attack you from behind a tree and expect you to fight? 

The worst thoughts, however, were spent on those daydreams. That he was taking you to the arboretum to confess his undying love for you. That he was going to ask you to run away with him, away from the order’s rules and vows. Of course, Obi-Wan had never given you even the smidgen of an idea that he was interested in you in that way. And these thoughts were immediately followed by an intense feeling of guilt.

Was a year enough time? After you had arrived here, separated from the man you had considered the love of your life and had vowed to spend the rest of your life with only 24 hours before, you had convinced yourself you’d never love again. It is why it had been so easy to take the Order’s vow. 

But as months passed, and you spent more and more time with Obi-Wan - kind, gentle Obi-Wan, with his quick wit and warm eyes, you had found yourself falling. 

“This isn’t about your training.” Obi-Wan noticed you devolving into a similar confused state as Anakin had been in moments ago as you entered the arboretum. 

“Oh.” Was all you said, trying desperately not to resort to your second train of thought as he sat you down on a bench beneath some orange flowers. It was quiet in here, glass ceiling shielding the room from the sounds of the city. You often came here with Yoda. It was one of the only places you could remotely meditate.

Obi-Wan moved his satchel to his lap, opening it up and digging around inside for something. Eventually, he lifted his hand out, fist closed around the object, and held it out.

“Here.” 

You placed your hand beneath his, ready to catch whatever it was he was giving you. He opened his hand, the object falling.

It was cool and silver, heavy but not heavy enough that it weighed your hand down. When you looked down at it, you realised it was a locket - oval shaped, adorned with an engraved pattern that looked like the rings of Saturn. Curving around the top left corner, three blue crystals descending in size. 

“Obi-Wan...” You breathed out, brain clouding as you struggled to find the words to express your feelings. What did this _mean_? Was the overwhelming thought. 

“Open it.” Obi-wan urged, and you did. When it fell open, a projection flickered to life. A mini hologram made of blue pixels. 

The image was familiar. Heart-wrenchingly familiar. It was a hologram of the polaroid of you and Joe on your wedding day, the square photo now immortalised in pixels. You felt tears well in your eyes.

“I know how hard it has been…” Obi-Wan frowned, trying to find the words that wouldn’t betray his feelings. “I thought this would be an easier way of carrying it.”

“Thank you.” You whispered, eyes fixated on the photo. The guilt in your heart doubled and the tears flowed faster. You had been hoping that this had been a gift of love _from_ Obi-Wan. A show of affection that you had only dreamed of. Instead, it was a heartbreaking reminder of how stupid you were being. You were falling in love with a man who could not love you back when you should be grieving for the man you had lost only a year ago. 

“I’m sorry.” Obi-Wan watched as your shoulders began to shake with sobs.

“No. No.” You shook your head, smiling sadly up at him. You lay your hand over his on his knee, squeezing it gently. “It’s perfect, thank you.”

Obi-Wan pursed his lips and nodded, trying not to think too hard about how if he flipped his hand right now he could lace his fingers through yours and run his thumb gently against your own to sooth you. He wanted so badly to follow what his instincts told him would stop your heartache. He wanted to reach up and wipe the tears from your cheeks. He wanted to tell you it was going to be okay, that you were safe here with him and Anakin by your side. But the other side of him, the other side hardened by loss and a life under rules told him to do what was right. 

He kept his hand still and let you calm yourself, suffering through a few more minutes of your restrained sobs in silence, and he couldn’t help but think _if this was the right thing to do, then why did it feel so **wrong**._

The beep of his communicator on his wrist made you retract your hand, almost thinking it had been because of your touch that it had made that noise. 

“Obi-Wan.” Yoda’s voice crackled through the communicator and Obi-Wan straightened up, as if Yoda’s voice was chastising him for his lapse in judgement.

“Yes, Master Yoda.” Obi-Wan held the communicator up to his mouth, watching as you clasped the locket around your neck. 

“Mission for you and Skywalker, we have.” There was a pause. “Bring my padawan, you will.”

  * .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.



Anakin and Obi-Wan were tasked with protecting Senator Padmé Amidala, who had recently arrived in Coruscant and was under threat from separatist assassination attempts.

Yoda had tried to keep politics separate from your training. What you knew of the increasing number of systems turning against the Republic and joining the Separatists was learned only from what you could get out of Obi-Wan and Anakin after their missions, and the whisperings of Jedi in the hallways of the temple. Over the last few weeks, the chatter had increased, a thick feeling of anxiety settling over the temple, and you knew that something dark was coming. 

You had been asked to accompany Anakin and Obi-Wan. However, Master Yoda had made it very clear that it was not a mission. You were not tasked with protecting the Senator as your friends were. It was merely an educational assignment. 

“Watch and learn, Bunny.” Anakin had teased, as you had made your way to Padmé’s apartment. You shoved him into a pillar.

Something had shifted in Anakin, however. Even though his witty snip at you had seemed his usual, chirpy self, it was a front for something hiding behind his eyes. It happened the moment Padmé’s name was mentioned in the Jedi Council chamber. Obi-Wan sensed it too and had no qualms commenting on it. He almost revelled in his Padawan’s nerves, used to his cocky, overconfident posture and comebacks. Seeing him sweating, fiddling with the fabric of his robes - it was a side of Anakin Skywalker neither of you had ever seen.

When you met Padmé Amidala, it suddenly all made sense. She was gorgeous, regal looking, dressed in gowns the likes of which you had never seen before in your life. Her attention had initially been reserved for Obi-Wan, clearly ecstatic in seeing him again. He was all smiles and politeness, offering a bow and a hand shake, as their reunion held the warmth of old friends. 

Then she had turned to Anakin, and the sudden blatant flirting Anakin began was enough to make everyone in the room shift uncomfortably - particularly Obi-Wan. 

_At least I’m not the only one_ , you had thought, relishing in the idea that someone else was as close to breaking the Jedi vows as you.

Obi-Wan had interrupted the tension between Ani and Padmé with your introduction. You hadn’t known whether to curtsey or offer your hand to shake, and your faltering had made Padmé laugh warmly.

“I’ve heard of Yoda’s padawan from a galaxy far, far away.” She took your hand in hers, squeezing it gently. “You must tell me stories of your system some time.” 

The rest of the evening was spent going over security details with Padmé’s guards and Captain Typho, quizzing them on the recent events upon Padmé’s arrival in Coruscant, and sitting politely as Obi-Wan and Anakin engaged in friendly conversation with the senator.

Eventually, night fell, and Padmé retired to her bedroom. You were to stay with Obi-Wan and Anakin, in the main room as you paid close attention to the force.

“You must attune your senses to danger, young one.” Obi-Wan had told you after Padmé had left the room. You wanted to argue against his labelling of you as ‘young one’, wanting to remind him you were at _least_ 5 years Anakin’s senior, but you held your tongue.

After only twenty minutes, you felt your focus waning. Obi-Wan and Anakin discussed trivial things in hushed tones, whispering about politics as though it were a big secret you were to be kept out of. Eventually, the day's excitement and this week's particularly exertive Jedi training caught up to you, and you felt your eyes drooping.

You fought it, you really did. You clung desperately to the edges of consciousness, trying to use the force to bring you back to the waking world, but it was no use. Eventually, you heard a sigh from across the room and then, Obi-Wan’s voice, clear as day in your mind.

**Sleep, darling.**

You fell asleep with a small smile stretching at your lips. 

Obi-Wan watched from across the room as you drifted off, curled up on one of Padmé’s sofas, knees tucked into your chest and head lolled on the back rest. His features softened, then furrowed into a frown at his own thoughts. 

“I-” His voice came out shaky, and he cleared his throat, turning to his Padawan, who was too wrapped up in his own thoughts to notice his Master’s momentary weakness. “I’m going to check on Typho’s security detail downstairs. You keep an eye on the cameras.” He instructed, before turning and walking out of the room hastily.

  * .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.



When he returned, barely an hour later, Anakin was pacing around the living room as you slept. Obi-Wan had questioned him on the status of this mission, realised that in his absence, a plan had been concocted to use Padmé as bait, and the cameras had been turned off. The only way to sense danger would now be through the force, or through R2’s warning. They had argued, their usual spat of wit, but it was settled as most of their usual disagreements were. Silently. 

Obi-Wan couldn’t help but acknowledge the change in his Padawan. It had been creeping up on him lately. He had sensed it on their last two missions - a restlessness in his eyes, now weighed down by dark bags. 

“You look tired.” Obi-Wan pressed, searching for answers.

“I don’t sleep well anymore.” Anakin’s gaze flitted to you, sleeping peacefully on the sofa. His eyes flashed with envy. 

“Because of your mother?” It had been a calculated guess. Anakin had been mentioning his mother more and more often lately. It was perhaps only natural. Obi-Wan had often thought of his parents as his training with Qui Gon progressed. Would they be proud of him? What did they look like?

Anakin nodded solemnly. “I don’t know why I keep dreaming about her.”

“Dreams pass in time.” Obi-Wan took a few steps closer to him, and Anakin wished he would stop speaking in metaphors and clipped sayings. He felt a rage bubble up inside of him and he made no attempt to control it.

“I’d much rather dream about Padmé.” He admitted, the recklessness with which he threw his statement out there shocking Obi-Wan. “Just being around her again is… intoxicating.”

Obi-Wan grew cold. 

“Be mindful of your thoughts, Anakin. They betray you.” He chastised instinctively. “You’ve made a commitment to the Jedi Order, a commitment not easily broken.” His words were meant for more than Anakin’s infatuation, he knew it. He knew it because for the last twelve hours, he had been telling himself the same thing. 

“And don’t forget, she’s a politician,” he added, in an attempt to lighten his statement, even though he held it with as much seriousness as his last, “and they’re not to be trusted.”

You stirred slightly, unbeknownst to the two men who were too involved in their discussion (or as Anakin saw it - a lecture) to notice. You felt something approaching amidst your slumber. It was pushing you away from deep sleep, out of the dream you had started having and into consciousness. It tugged, and tugged at that feeling in your gut, and slowly, you felt it invade your mind.

 _What is it?_ You asked of it, almost irritated. It answered you, harsh and loud.

**_DANGER._ **

You shot awake, hand fumbling for your lightsaber as you turned in the directions of Padmé’s bedroom. Anakin turned, and then Obi-Wan.

“I felt it too.” Obi-Wan gasped, moving quickly toward where the force was pulling the three of you.

Anakin ran ahead, leaping into the room and jumping up, slicing down the creatures crawling over Padmé. Obi-Wan glanced sideways, seeing an assassin drone hovering next to the window and, without even thinking, leapt through the glass.

“Jesus christ, boys.” You raised your lightsaber, shaking your head at Obi-Wan’s figure being carried off across the city by a drone. 

You ran out with Anakin, knowing he was going for a ship. He found a three seater yellow speeder, hopping immediately into the driver's seat as you took the seat in the back. He didn’t even give you a chance to buckle up before he launched the ship into the sky, speeding in the direction the drone had disappeared in.

“Not a mission, my ass.” You muttered, as you darted through the sky on a speeder. Anakin almost smirked, had his focus not been on catching whatever had threatened Padmé’s life.

“Hell of a first lesson, huh, Bunny?” He simply teased, dodging around aircraft. 

You kept a trained eye on the sky, searching for Obi-Wan in the mess of glowing transports and tall buildings. Then you saw him, clinging onto a drone that suddenly wasn’t there anymore, blown up in a burst of red sparks.

“Shit,” you gasped, but it didn’t seem to phase Anakin, who dipped his speeder down fast to catch up with Obi-Wan’s falling body. You clutched at red leather, fingernails piercing the material, as you dropped almost vertically. But it wasn’t the fear of the drop that was causing your heart to race, it was the fear of not making it to Obi-Wan on time.

Anakin was a more skilled pilot than you gave him credit for, however, and eventually, the speeder ended up below Obi-Wan, hovering to allow him to land on it carefully. He landed on the tail with a thud, clambering over you into the passenger seat. It took all your willpower to not just reach out and wrap your arms around his shoulders.

“What took you so long?!” Obi-Wan snapped, but it was teasing, and you scoffed, shaking your head.

“Oh, you know Master. I couldn’t find a speeder that I really liked.” 

“Will you two stop messing around.” You hit them both upside their heads. This time, Anakin really did smirk, turning around in his seat.

“Did you really think we wouldn’t catch him?” He teased, shaking his head with a laugh. His eyes fixed ahead again. The two bickered - a battle of wits - and you could’ve screamed in frustration. Obi-Wan had nearly plummeted to his death. Anakin was driving as though he _wanted_ to die. And they were _joking around._

It got to the point where you didn’t know what you were following anymore. You plummeted downwards, seemingly following the assassin. You could barely tell what direction you were heading in, unable to focus on anything long enough to establish a location. When Anakin flew you through power couplings, purple electricity coursed painfully through your veins. 

“Fucking hell, Anakin.” You cursed, joining Obi-Wan in his chastisement of the reckless young Jedi. 

Coruscant whizzed by as Anakin claimed he was taking you on a shortcut, before halting abruptly in the middle of the air. You finally caught your breath, grasping the headrests of Obi-Wan and Anakin’s seats as you fought desperately to steady your heart rate.

“Well, you’ve lost him.” Obi-Wan huffed. 

“I’m deeply sorry, Master.” Anakin replied sarcastically.

“That was some short cut, Anakin. He went completely the other way. Once again you’ve proved—”

“If you’ll excuse me.” Anakin cut Obi-Wan off abruptly, kicking his legs over the side of the speeder and launching himself from it. You gasped, peering over the edge of the speeder at the rapidly descending figure of Anakin. 

“I hate it when he does that.” Obi-Wan muttered.

“YOU JUMPED OUT OF A WINDOW FIVE MINUTES AGO, OBI-WAN.” You finally found your voice, leaping over the headrest and into the pilot’s seat. 

“I took a calculated risk.” Obi-Wan eyed you cautiously as you put the speeder in drive and began plummeting downwards in pursuit of Anakin. Obi-Wan gripped the sides of the speeder. Anakin was a reckless pilot, but he was at least a well trained one. You were a reckless pilot _and_ you had only been flying speeders for six months.

“You’re both idiots.” You muttered, finally setting your sight on Anakin, hanging off the tail of the enemy's ship. You pressed harder on the accelerator, willing your vehicle to catch up. 

“Anakin is reckless.” Obi-Wan said, raising his hand to catch an incoming lightsaber, shaking it in your face as if to prove his point. You shook your head, not taking your eyes from the sky.

“Yeah, well. Like father, like son.” You retorted. He was about to argue back, twinkle in his eye as he began to enjoy your verbal spat, but then there were two quick blaster shots and suddenly the enemy craft began descending rapidly. You chased after it, dodging other crafts in the air until finally it crashed, Anakin tumbling on the ground. You caught a glimpse of the assassin crawling from the craft, Anakin clambering to his feet and then chasing after the pilot. 

You landed the speeder poorly, it jolted to the ground in the middle of a crowd. Had he not been eager to catch up with his Padawan, Obi-Wan probably would’ve reprimanded you. Instead, the two of you leapt from the speeder and weaved steadily between the crowd, arriving at the entrance to a bar.

“Anakin!” Obi-Wan shouted, halting a sprinting Anakin in his tracks.

“She went into the club, Master.” 

“Patience.” Obi-Wan warned, and you could see the pieces of a plan being slotted together in his mind. “Use the force. Think.”

“Sorry, Master.” Anakin looked annoyed at himself, and it was then you realised that, though this seemed like an extraordinary circumstance, it was just another lesson for Master Kenobi and Padawan Skywalker. 

“He went in there to hide not to run.” 

“Yes, Master.”

“Next time.” He held up the lightsaber he had caught, smirk pulling at the edges of his lips. “Try not to lose it.”

You rolled your eyes, and Anakin fought not to laugh at the face you pulled behind them.

“This weapon is your life.” Obi-Wan shook the saber in Anakin’s face and you snorted. Obi-Wan turned to you, eyebrows raised.

“When this is over, we are having a serious conversation about parallel parking.” He chastised, but you only rolled your eyes.

“You’re not my Master, Kenobi.” You teased, walking with the two of them into the bar. 

“Why do I get the feeling you’re going to be the death of me?” Obi-Wan said, and you weren’t sure whether it was directed at you or Anakin. Anakin, however, ever the dutiful Padawan, answered.

“Don’t say that, Master.” He chirped. “You’re the closest thing I have to a father.” 

“Then why don’t you listen to me.” Obi-Wan snipped back, and you couldn’t help but let out a clipped laugh. Both men glared at you, but Obi-Wan was fighting a smirk.

“I am trying.” Anakin sighed.

You walked into the main room of the seedy Coruscant bar and your eyebrows raised. You had been to a few Kafes in coruscant, wandered the markets and occasionally gone to a restaurant or two. But you had never been to something like this. Women roamed the room in scantily clad bikinis and see through tights. Men nudged each other in corners, eyeing a girl up and making crude comments to their friends. Droid races were projected onto walls, and uniformed attendants were taking bets from drunk patrons. 

It was the closest you’d seen to something Earth-like in a while and you couldn’t help but laugh. 

“What?” Anakin quizzed you, as Obi-Wan stood looking over the bar with his hands on his hIps. 

You recounted your thoughts, shaking your head, and Obi-Wan turned to you, eyebrows raised.

“My opinion of your home planet has just declined in favour rapidly.” 

“Fair assessment.” You nodded.

“Can you see him?” Obi-Wan asked Anakin.

“I think he is a she, and I think she is a changeling.”

“Girl power.” You muttered, scanning the room for any disturbance in the force.

Obi-Wan ignored you. “In that case, be extra careful.” 

There was a pause as you all scanned the room, until the feeling of a hand slipping into yours made you gasp. You looked down to see your fingers interlocked with Obi-Wan’s. Anakin was also frowning at the interaction.

“Go and find her.” Obi-Wan instructed Anakin as he began walking down the steps, pulling you with him.

“Where are you going, Master?” Anakin pressed.

“For a drink.” Was all he said. Anakin separated from the two of you, and Obi-Wan carefully led you through the crowd and towards the bar. You tried to focus on the force, searching for the changeling amongst the crowd, but it was hard to _focus_.

At the bar, Obi-Wan raised his hand at a bartender, moving his fingers in some sort of signal that triggered the bartender to produce two shot glasses of iridescent blue liquor. Obi-Wan’s hand released yours and you let out a breath you hadn’t realised you’d been holding. Immediately, your hand wrapped around the shot glass, taking a shaky sip to steady your nerves. 

“You wanna buy some death sticks?” A man beside Obi-Wan leered. Obi-Wan didn’t so much as glance his way, fixing his gaze on you.

“You don’t want to sell me death sticks.” He muttered, waving his hand at the stranger.

“I don’t want to sell you death sticks.” The stranger croaked back.

“You want to go home and rethink your life.” 

“I want to go home and rethink my life.” And with that, the man got up and left the bar.

You shook your head as Obi-Wan practically downed the shot. You took another sip.

“Bit harsh, wasn't it?” You nodded your head at the man who was now trudging out of the bar like a droid. Obi-Wan didn’t answer you, resting his elbow on the bar and leaning down a little. He was so close to you, mere inches separating the two of you, and when he spoke again it was in a low voice, so that no one around you could hear.

“You really are a terrible driver, Padawan.” The padawan this time was a term of endearment, and it made your heart flutter.

“I’ve told you many times, we don’t have flying spaceships on earth.”

“You told me you have groundcars, though.”

“Was never any good at driving them either.” You laughed, and it sounded nervous. You frowned, taking another sip of liquor. This was an act. A trap for the changeling. Nothing more. But you couldn’t help but revel in it. Taken out of context, to anyone looking at you in the bar right now, you would look as though you were on a date. 

“I should give you some flying lessons.” Obi-Wan shook his head. “Yoda was never the best of pilots.” 

“Hmm, I thought Anakin was the best pilot in the galaxy.” You teased. “Why would I take flying lessons from the number 2?” 

Obi-Wan chuckled, shaking his head. Your tone was flirty, testing the limits of this performance. 

“Anakin would teach you how to _crash_ a speeder, not fly one.”

You were about to retort, when you felt it. The force clenched in your gut and you felt a presence of danger merely a few feet away. Your eyes widened, muscles tensing. 

“Obi-Wan…” You whispered, pushing a message through the force towards him. He only smiled.

“I know.” 

With that, he spun around, lightsaber drawn. He sliced down, and you saw the flash of a gun hitting the ground, a woman falling to the floor. You gasped. The bar fell silent. You downed your shot.

With the chase over, the assassin captured, you wanted to feel some sense of relief. Mission complete. Disaster evaded. Peace.

So then why did the thought of Obi-Wan’s hand in yours drive you crazy?

  * .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.



Hours later, much closer to sunrise than sunset, there was a knock at your door. You had been lying on your bed, R2M2 playing The Dark Side of the Moon as you stared aimlessly at the ceiling. The events following the chase across Coruscant had played on your mind. You hadn’t really expected anything that different - Anakin being assigned to guard Padmé, Obi-Wan being tasked with finding the bounty hunter. But you had hoped that the albeit small control you had displayed today, your willingness to jump into action, had warranted you being instructed to do something _more_ than _nothing_.

You sensed something coming, and you weren’t naive enough to think you were the only one that sensed it. You saw it in Yoda’s eyes. In Windu’s. In Obi-Wan’s. And sitting by and doing nothing felt like a slap in the face.

“Y/N?” Obi-Wan’s voice was soft from the other side of the door.

“One second,” you called back, standing and moving towards your door. You unlocked it, opening it without looking at Obi-Wan, and walked back to your bed. Obi-Wan stepped inside your room cautiously. He was barely over the threshold and the door remained open. 

Neither of you spoke and you refused to meet his eyes. You could tell he was looking at you, the feeling of his gaze burning holes in your scalp, but you refused to look up, fixing your eyes on the blanket covering your bed.

“You know this is what’s right.” Obi-Wan finally spoke, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, he crossed his arms beneath his robe, fingers fidgeting nervously. 

“It doesn’t feel right.” You shook your head, looking out of the window. “Do you really think I’m not ready?”

Obi-Wan paused, considering his answer. 

“You have picked things up faster than any other Padawan I have seen.” 

Your heart swelled at the compliment and it finally brought your eyes to his. He looked at you somberly, taking one more step into your room so that the door closed behind him.

“But Yoda is right to be cautious. It has only been a year. This is… this is a big mission.” 

“Right…” You nodded, voice small. “Right.”

The two of you moved instinctively then, both relaxed, your disagreement settled. Obi-Wan crossed the room and sat himself at the end of your bed. You stood and wandered over to the small Kaf machine that you had purchased in the city a few months after your arrival. On sleepless nights, you would make a cup of Kaf and sit on the floor of your balcony, listening to _Breathe in the Air_ on repeat until the sun rose over the city. 

Now, you pulled two mugs, mismatched in size and colour, from the shelf beneath your desk. You turned, perching on the back of the desk chair, waiting for the kaf machine to do its thing. 

You both watched each other cautiously. You felt as though you should speak, but you didn’t know what to say. Besides, it was Obi-Wan who had come to you, not the other way around. 

“R2, will you pause the-”

“No.” Obi-Wan interrupted, shaking his head. “No. It’s… It’s nice.”

You pursed your lips and nodded, waiting for him to reveal his reason for coming here.

Obi-Wan didn’t know what to say because he didn’t know why he was here. 

He supposed it had something to do with how you had reacted to the council’s decision. He wouldn’t have opposed to you coming with him to find the bounty hunter. In fact, if he had been your Master, he would’ve insisted on it. He wasn’t too sure why Yoda was keeping you cooped up on Coruscant. However a part of him, in the hidden recesses of his mind, reminded him that the reason he wanted you to join him was not because he considered you ready.

Since the events in the bar in Coruscant, his mind struggled to focus. As he retold the night’s incident to the council, he found his mind wandering to you. The way you looked as you slept peacefully. The way you were able to match him in a battle of wit. The feeling of his fingers entangled in yours. 

He never allowed each thought to last more than a fleeting moment, exerting what little control he had over his thoughts of you. But each time one snuck up on him, it felt like an electric shock. Like Anakin was driving a speeder through power couplings again.

The kaf was ready by the time Obi-Wan spoke again, your back turned to him as you poured the hot brown liquid into the mugs.

“You did well today.” He spoke softly, smiling up at you as you handed him a cup. You smiled back at him, sitting beside him on the bed, with enough space between you so that it wasn’t awkward.

“Thank you.” You laced your fingers around the mug handle, staring down at the steaming kaf.

“I know you sense something coming.” 

“Hmm.”

“I sense it too.” He admitted. _Breathe in the Air_ ended, and then began again. “I’m… I’m worried about Anakin.” He breathed out, looking down at his kaf as you finally looked up to him. “He isn’t ready for a solo mission. And his... “ he frowned, watching the kaf swirl in the chipped green mug he recognised as a gift Anakin had brought back for you a few missions ago. “His attachment to Padmé is…”

You felt the breath hitch in your throat and you swallowed in an attempt to rid yourself of the lump forming there. You didn’t know how to respond, so there was only the Pink Floyd tune playing through the silence.

Eventually, deeming the drink in his hands cool enough, Obi-Wan took a sip.

“Why did you come here?” You mumbled, shocking Obi-Wan. He faltered, gaze meeting yours as he licked his lips to ease the sting of hot kaf. 

“I-”

“Not that I want you to leave.” You hastily added, reaching out a hand and resting it on the bed between you. “I just… I… don’t know all that much about the custom of the Jedi. I… I’m yet to wrap my head around… parts of it.” 

Obi-Wan knew you were talking about the vow. 

“Maybe… maybe that's why I came to you.” He mused, looking ahead. A pause fell over you again. He turned back to you and smiled sadly. His eyes flitted from yours to your neck, where the locket he had given you yesterday afternoon sat against your chest. He reached out without thinking, fingers brushing against the metal.

“Your… you…” He frowned, struggling to find the words for the first time in a long time. 

“Joe.” You finished for him, nodding. You looked down at your coffee, guilt swirling in your stomach at the mention of his name from your lips. 

“The Dark Side of the Moon is probably the least romantic album I could’ve been brought here with.” You laughed, shaking your head. “Pre-1977 Pink Floyd weren’t a very lovey bunch… But…” You sighed, struggling to find the words.

Obi-Wan watched you cautiously, his hand was still suspended between you, the locket between his fingers. He lowered it, resting his palm atop your hand between the two of you. His touch felt warm, encouraging, and it gave you the confidence to continue on.

“Joe and I danced to Pink Floyd at our wedding. When I first arrived here, I thought that this… celibacy thing would be easy. Joe… he was the love of my life. Never finding it again. Never having to find it again. It felt like an easy decision.” You felt tears brewing in your eyes, and you turned away to the window again. “But love… attachment. Is… such a key part of humanity. It’s woven into everything we do. The songs we sing…” you trailed off, letting the music of Pink Floyd speak for you. It wasn’t a love song, but it felt like it at that moment.

You sipped your kaf and turned back to Obi-Wan, sad smile on your lips.

“I can empathise with Anakin.” You finally admitted. “But I also understand your concern.You’re right. I sense something. And Anakin’s attachment to Padmé feels part of it.” 

Obi-Wan nodded. He took a sip of kaf.

“You danced at your wedding?” He asked.

“It’s a custom on earth. The couples first dance after you exchange vows… you have a party and you pick a song and you…” You frowned, furrowing your brow. Without another thought, you stood, placing your half drunk cup of kaf on the desk and taking Obi-Wan’s mug from his hands.

When the two mugs were set aside, you turned back to Obi-Wan, who looked up at you confused. You offered him a warm smile of reassurance, one that instantly eased any residual anxiety taking space in his mind, and he stood. You reached out and took your hand in his, and Obi-Wan tried to ignore the tug of the force in his gut. 

“Here.” You took his hand and placed it cautiously on your waist. Obi-Wan’s breath hitched in his throat and you expected him to pull away, only he didn’t, letting his hand rest atop the soft leather of your belt. 

It was the most intimate he had ever been with you, and he wasn’t pulling away. That had to mean _something_.

Obi-Wan wasn’t going to tell you but, this was the most intimate he had been with _anyone_. One hand on your waist, the other interlocked with your own. Even when he was a child growing up in the Jedi Temple, when others his age sought desperately to break the rules, he followed the code of the Jedi to a T. It was often much to his former masters dismay, always thinking about the Order’s opinion on his actions before taking them.

When you stepped closer, his mind fogged and he couldn’t think straight. You eased the years of tension left unsoothed in his muscles. You cleared his mind of any thoughts that weren’t pertinent to the moment currently transpiring. You made him _forget_. He watched you carefully, eyes fixed on your own. You offered him a smile and then stepped to the side slightly.

“Copy me,” you whispered, stepping sideways again in the other direction. He did. His movements were jagged and clunky at first. He feared stepping on your toe or tripping on his own feet. Eventually, your hand moved from atop his on your waist and circled around his back, palm pressing lightly against the base of his shoulder. He tensed a little, brow furrowing as his eyes fell to look at his feet. His cheeks flushed with embarrassment at how clumsy he looked.

“Relax,” you giggled, and the sound of it leaving your lips made Obi-Wan smile instinctively. “Just… think of it like you’re fighting.”

That made Obi-Wan bark out a laugh, sure that what you were doing right now was the furthest from fighting as you could possibly be. You smirked, running your fingers against the fabric of Obi-Wan’s tunic. 

“I’ve seen you fight, Obi-Wan.” He fought with such grace, moving carefully across the floor, and you had often thought it looked _exactly_ like dancing. “Just… feel the force. Follow it.” 

Obi-Wan frowned, but did as you said, letting the force guide him. A few moments later, he looked back up at you, feet moving more naturally now, without even having to think about it. His eyes met yours and he smiled proudly as your dance became less of a rhythmless stepping and more of a smooth swaying. 

“You said Joe was the love of your life,” Obi-Wan murmured. 

You pursed your lips and nodded.

“Yes. We met when we were practically kids. He was my first kiss.” You smiled but it didn’t reach your eyes. After a second, you steeled your nerves and took a deep breath.

“But… I think… I think this is a different life now.” You frowned at your own words. “He was the love of my life. But I’m not living that life anymore.”

Obi-Wan stopped swaying. Looking down at you, you saw an intense conflict in his eyes. His grip on your hand loosened and you stepped away, removing your hand from his back and letting his fall from your waist. You knew. It had been too much.

“I…” Obi-Wan looked out the window. He shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut. He had never _felt_ this way before. He’d never truly found himself questioning the confines of his vow, not until…

“I’m doing what I warn Anakin against.” He muttered to himself. “It’s… It’s the very thing I fear in him.”

The words were a slap to your face. You could feel their sting, harsh against your skin, twisting at your heart. It was not only hopeless, it was _wrong_. Like it was some sick and twisted infatuation. You turned away from Obi-Wan so he couldn’t see the tears brimming in your eyes. 

As if sensing the tension, R2M2 stopped playing abruptly, and a cold silence fell over the room, leaving the echo of his words to ring in your ears. 

Obi-Wan’s instinct told him to take it back the moment the words left his lips. To ask your droid to start the song again. To put his hand on your waist sway with you until sunrise. But he couldn’t ignore the battle raging in his mind right now. 

“I’m sorry.” He turned on his heels and walked out the door, leaving you alone with the pain of his rejection.

  * .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.



**Notes for the Chapter:**

> part 3 - 15th feb x


	3. On the Run

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the clone wars rage on, you are reunited with old friends for a mission across the galaxy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is early bc i loved it too much and i need the momentary serotonin i get when i post stuff akjhgsajkhs

21 BBY __

_ Live for today, gone tomorrow. That's me. _

* * *

W ar smelled like fire and tasted like rust. It had never occurred to you that you’d be able to smell or taste it. 

Even the senses you had expected - touch, sight and hearing - you had barely got used to in this context. The context of war

You had barely got used to the heaviness of a weapon in your hand and the feel of sand between your fingers as you slid across the dunes to avoid shots. You had barely got used to the sound of laser-fire, the swish of lightsabers and then the loud buzz of them crashing together, followed inevitably by the screams of those victim to their movements. You had barely got used to the sight of anger contorting faces as they fought or the dark crimson of blood spreading across the fabric of a corpse. 

You had barely got used to the smell of fire and the taste of rust. 

And yet the unexpected smell and taste of war was not the strangest part of it all. The strangest part of it was your now trained sixth sense. The feeling of the force. All around you, pulling and pushing, ebbing and flowing. It moved within you and around you. It was overpowering and yet gave you the power it possessed. It both gave you advantage in battle and disadvantage after it, another sense to remember. Another way the universe could remind you of the suffering you had witnessed and endured. A promise that the future would only bring even more.

Your nightmares were plagued by that day often. Merely days after you had been told you could not join Obi-Wan on his mission, the Jedi had been called to save him and Yoda could not deny your presence was needed. 

It was like throwing a child into the deep end to teach them how to swim. Your first battle was not against a few opponents on a peace-keeping mission for the Republic. Your first battle was against Separatist droids, in an arena as thousands watched on, with more opponents than you could begin to count. 

The difference, however, between throwing a child into the deep end and throwing you into battle on Genosis was that a child will struggle at first and then eventually learn to tread water. They will learn to keep their head above the surface, learn to breathe out through their nose. When you landed on the sands of the arena on Genosis, by the side of Obi-Wan Kenobi and Mace Windu, you had not only kept your head above water but swam the length of the pool with so little effort it almost looked as though you had been swimming for decades.  _ Fighting _ for decades. 

Obi-Wan watched as you sliced down opponents with ease, like a dance rather than a battle. Your footwork was careful and light, never taking an extra step when it wasn’t necessary. It was exactly as you had alluded to, merely a few nights ago, as you swayed across the floor of your chamber. Dancing was just like fighting. Fighting was just like dancing. So long as you were doing it right.

He could sense that you were so in tune with the force, utilising it in a way he had never seen before, that it took all he could to focus on his own battles instead of watching yours.

When you were separated on different ships, Obi-Wan had fought to keep his mind on his mission to reach Dooku. He kept his composure as he searched the dunes for you in the midst of battle. Searching for the familiar movement of a green lightsaber cutting down droids with ease. He never did see you and it unsettled him. What if you hadn’t made it out of the arena? What if your inexperience had finally gotten the better of you? What if-

When Padmé had fallen from their own ship and Anakin had acted on his emotions, Obi-Wan knew he had been too harsh. He knew, though his words were true, they were in fact directed more to himself than his Padawan. They were Jedi. More was at stake here than their attachments.

You had joined Yoda on his ship to Dooku’s lair and not asked questions when Yoda had willed you to stay by his side instead of leaping into battle with the other Jedi. When you had landed and you had seen the faint blue and green glow of Obi-Wan and Anakin’s lightsabers heading into the building before them, Yoda had not attempted to steady you as he moved carefully and slowly behind you. He let you go, running into an unknown battle, with a foe he knew to be too great for your limited training. 

It would be a lesson. A test.

Obi-Wan was engaged in battle with Dooku when you entered the vast room, lightsaber raised and anticipating a fight. You had faltered in your step, the red glow of Dooku’s lightsaber coming down skillfully against Obi-Wan’s blue one startling you. A sith. The first you had seen. 

Obi-Wan caught the green of your lightsaber from the corner of his eye, focus flickering for just a second, force pulling toward you. Dooku noticed his slip in concentration, slicing his saber down against Obi-Wan’s skin with a swiftness that surprised both of you. He gasped, collapsing to the ground, pain searing through his veins and debilitating his movements. 

Dooku turned to what had interrupted Kenobi - you - and a sinister smile had spread across his face. 

You felt fear, darkness and negativity swirling around in the force in the air. You felt it reaching out to you, pricking at the lightness that swelled within you. And then, Obi-Wan’s eyes, meeting yours briefly, holding your gaze. 

You blinked, eyes slow in opening again, but the force within you now guiding you as it had in the arena. You moved carefully, just as Obi-Wan had seen you move before. You didn’t strike and as Dooku approached you, prepared for battle, you sidestepped around him, finding a position to better leverage your connection to the force against him. 

The first strike he raised against you, you blocked effortlessly. Dooku did not try to hide his surprise. Except, it didn’t convey that he was impressed with your movement. It conveyed only that he was intrigued. Like you were a new plaything.

You blocked his next three strikes, light on your feet as you moved away from his attacks. 

The next strike was made by you. Blocked and forced away. You stumbled, the first time Obi-Wan had seen you do so, and he tensed from his position on the floor. 

“Y/N,” he gasped out, a pained grunt escaping his lips at the effort of even saying your name.

It was too late. Dooku shocked you, blue tendrils of lightning escaping his fingers and connecting to your body. It froze your limbs, your organs, your force. It stilled you, hot electricity racing through your veins until it left you just as quickly, leaving you cold and unconscious on the concrete floor, saber resting weakly in your limp hand. All you could feel, through the darkness that clouded your other senses, was the taste of rust and the scent of fire.

Obi-Wan tried to focus on the battle now at hand. Anakin had learned the error of his previously rushed ways. He had watched your skilled movements and was matching your dance around Dooku with just as much skill. Occasionally Obi-Wan’s focus waivered, sometimes to the pain shooting through his leg. Most of the time to the unconscious body only a few feet away from him. 

He assisted as best he could. But nothing could break the guilt he felt when, after his eyes briefly flittered to your form again, force reaching out to your own, he heard Anakin scream in pain, sliding across the floor to him unconscious. Armless. 

Obi-Wan grunted in agony, both physical and emotional. He was convinced this was the end. They had lost. He had let himself lose himself in emotional attachment. To you. To his padawan. He had failed.

He faded in and out of consciousness, fighting the darkness that threatened to overcome him. He vaguely recollected Yoda arriving. Yoda fighting Dooku. Green and red flashes hazy behind hooded eyes. And then he was fully awake. Completely aware of a large pillar making its way downwards, threatening to crush him and his Padawan. He wanted to move. He wrapped his fingers around Anakin’s shoulders, trying to gather the strength despite his injuries to pull him away. It was no use. This was it.

You came to seconds before the pillar would’ve crushed your friends. The feeling in your gut you had now grown to trust so freely surging you out of unconsciousness. You hadn’t had to think. When it came to such feelings with the force, such unwavering trust in its messages, no thought ever had to enter your brain before you acted. 

One moment, Obi-Wan was convinced he and his Padawan were dead and he was lost. The next, he was holding his breath longer than he thought he would’ve been. He was not weighed down by metal. His breath was not taken from him. His heart was still beating. He still felt the force around him.

The effort it took to hold the pillar suspended in the air, less than three feet above the bodies of Obi-Wan and Anakin was enough to make you scream. It was a growl of pain from your soul, a release of the tension it took to focus the force where you wanted it to be. You knew you couldn’t hold it for much longer and you tried to push the pillar across the room, so it would collapse on the ground a few feet away. But it was so  _ hard. _ So much invisible pressure fought against you. So much darkness tried to manipulate your force into letting go. 

“Yoda!” You screamed, clutching desperately to the invisible force you were trying to cling onto. Tears stung your cheeks at the effort you were exerting. It felt like you had gotten cramp in every muscle in your body, spasming and jerking away from the sensation until finally, it  _ made _ you let go, and you couldn’t help but let yourself slip back into the darkness again.

* * *

You awoke with a violent jerk of your body forcing itself out of the darkness. It sat you upright, compelling you out of the relaxed position of sleep and into one better prepared for threat. 

You were plagued by those last few moments often. The thoughts that rushed through your head as you let go of the force.

You had killed Obi-Wan Kenobi. You had killed Anakin Skywalker. You hadn’t been able to save them. You had let the force down. 

Months later, and you had a routine for this feeling when you awoke.

You shut your eyes again, searching the force within you. You held onto it, the force pushing hope through your veins. It showed you Anakin, reunited with Padmé a few hours after Dooku’s escape. It showed you Obi-Wan, sat beside your bed as you awoke on a ship hurtling through space away from Genosis. It showed you their faint force signatures, somewhere across the galaxy. A promise that they were still there. They were still alive. You hadn’t killed them. 

When you opened your eyes again, your breathing had slowed to a normal pace, your heartbeat steady beneath your ribs. 

The next step in the routine was meditating. You pushed your sheets to the end of the bunk, off your body and into a pile of fabric. You turned to face the window across from you, looking out into space drifting by, and crossed your legs beneath you, grounding yourself into your mattress. When you straightened your back, you could feel the top of your hair brushing against the roof of your bunk, where another bunk began. 

You didn’t search for anything in particular in your meditation. You weren’t searching for answers. You weren’t searching for imbalance somewhere outside of your body. You were only reaffirming the balance inside of you, reassuring yourself that no matter what - through nightmares both in your dreams and in your reality - the lightness still existed inside of you.

You did this, often until you were completely reassured. Until you were completely reconnected to your force. But sometimes, like tonight, you did it until you could no longer wait to progress to the next step. Until the weight around your neck felt too nagging, the cool silver against your chest beneath your clothes too present. 

Opening your eyes, you found the chain with your fingers, pulling it so it sat atop of your undershirt. It was long enough that if you pressed your chin to your chest, you could look at it, fingers tracing the ridges of the intricate pattern carved onto its surface. You sat against the wall of your bunk, knees raised to make yourself smaller, to cocoon yourself in the moment when you opened it up. 

When the locket fell open, the hologram flickered to life instantly. It faltered in a mess of blue pixels before it formed the picture you held so close to your heart.

Not Joe. Not for months. 

You and Anakin, smiling at R2D2 as he processed a hologram. In the middle, between the two of you, Obi-Wan. His smile was almost intelligible from beneath his beard, but you had learned it was there from looking in his eyes. 

You had asked R2D2 to take this hologram moments before Anakin and Obi-Wan left for another Clone Wars mission away from you, separated yet again. You had teased them - saying it was so they would never forget you. So that, whenever Obi-Wan was too cocky, or Anakin too reckless, R2D2 could show them your face and they would know they needed to get their act together.

Your reasoning was, of course, more sentimental than you let on. After the hologram had been taken, they didn’t notice how you asked R2 to copy the hologram onto your M2. How you had asked your droid to replace the fluttering, spinning hologram of the polaroid of you and Joe with the photo of you, Obi-Wan and Anakin, experiencing a moment of unbridled compassion for one another, smiling despite the ever-growing presence of war and darkness. 

You watched the hologram flicker and restart several times. It only lasted a few seconds, the movement of it only the twitch of both yours and Anakin’s smiles widening, a gentle shake of the ship’s movement and then, at the end, in the very last split second, you and Obi-Wan, turning your attention to one another. You, looking up at him, he down at you, and his smile finally no longer restricted to his eyes alone, lips curling upwards-

The hologram starts again, the three of you facing ahead, Obi-Wan’s smile in his eyes not across his lips.

Part of you wished it were a photo like you were used to on Earth. Although the hologram caught that moment, the hologram didn’t capture  _ enough _ of Obi-Wan. It didn’t capture the way his golden hair glistened in the sunlight. It didn’t capture the creases by his eyes from years of laughing at his Padawan’s antics. It didn’t capture moles creating constellations on his cheeks and forehead. It was just blue pixels forming the vague shape of him. 

But, you supposed, out of all the colours for a hologram to be, blue was probably best. Blue was the colour of his lightsaber. Blue was the colour of his eyes. 

A knock on your door startled you into snapping the locket shut, tucking it beneath your shirt yet again.

“Come in.” You said softly, so as not to wake your bunkmate snoring peacefully above you. 

The door opened with a quiet mechanical whir, Yoda stood patiently on the other side. You bowed your head.

“Master Yoda.” 

You shielded your mind instantly, desperate to hide your thoughts of Obi-Wan from your Master.

“Nightmare, you had.” Yoda entered the room, walking straight over to the window looking out over space. You had just been on another diplomatic mission for the Republic. Most of your missions were as such - diplomatic. Political. One day you had been excluded from any political allegiance, and then next you were tasked with maintaining it. 

“I-” You considered arguing, dismissing it as merely a dream, but you knew Yoda would see right through it. “Yes.”

“Fear death, you must not.” 

You weren’t sure whether he was talking about your own, others or both.

“I know.” You nodded, looking down at your hands.

“You act well on your fear.” Yoda turned to you. “Meditation is an answer I sense you turn to.”

“Always.” 

You couldn’t help but feel your heart swell with pride. Just over a year ago, you hadn’t been able to sit still for more than twenty seconds. You hadn’t been able to look within yourself and recognise that balance. Now, you turned to it as a lifeline, finally able to comprehend its usefulness.

“Another mission, you are being sent on,” Yoda announced into the silence. You frowned. After your completed diplomatic mission to Rugosa, the return to Coruscant was planned, with Yoda detailing more training you would undertake upon your arrival. 

“An assassination on Beor.” Yoda continued, turning back to the window. “Once we are back in Coruscant, you will take a ship there with Senator Amidala and her guards.”

“You are not coming?” You questioned him. This was a first, having only ever been missions and journeys across the galaxy by your Master’s side. Yoda shook his head.

“Alone, you must go.” He turned back to you. “Remember your training, Padawan. Meditate, you must, to overcome your fear.” 

He began walking out of the room, offering you a small smile as he departed. You dropped your shoulders, but before you could relax completely, Yoda hesitated in the doorframe. You swallowed nervously as you felt his force reach out to you. He took a second, feeling something in the air between you, before he smiled sadly. You knew he knew. He always had a way of knowing.

“Let go, you shall.” 

* * *

You were not afraid of the mission to Beor. You were not afraid of going without your Master. You were not afraid of whatever challenges you were bound to face when you got there.

You  _ were _ afraid of the journey to Beor. You were afraid of the time you would spend with Padmé Amidala.

It had been awkward when you had arrived at the ship ready to leave for your mission. You had exchanged pleasantries - a bow, a comment on how the two of you had seemingly grown, not in the usual aging fashion, but in a way hardened by war. You had discussed the plan, the circumstances surrounding it all, what was at stake, how to play it…

But an uncomfortable awkwardness hung in the air as you discussed mundane things, sensed only by the two of you, alien to the others on the ship. You couldn’t meet one another’s eyes. You avoided conflict in your decisions, using politeness as a shield against offence.

After the plan had been settled, the crew in agreement, you were left with nothing else to distract from the heaviness of it as you sipped Kaf in silence, fixing your gaze out the window.

Space travel was something you hadn’t completely got used to yet. The first time you had left Coruscant, the day of the battle on Genosis, you had thrown up in the tiny bathroom, knees aching against the metal floor, fingers clutching at the toilet bowl.

Eventually, you were able to look out of the window, and you were sure that you would never take the view for granted. Hurtling through space, past the constellations you had grown so used to looking up at from your chamber balcony. No longer were the stars merely lights punctuating the blanket of night, but they were real, tangible things. Three dimensional. No longer were they reserved for after the sun had set, but embraced you during the day. 

Padmé shifted in her seat across from you. She had wanted to speak to you about what happened two months ago. About what you had seen. Anakin had wanted to talk to you about it right then and there. But both of them were too afraid.

“It… wasn’t what it looked like.” Padmé finally spoke, and you raised your eyes to meet hers for the first time. You couldn’t help but smirk a little at her words. It was surely going to be  _ very _ difficult for her to convince you that what you had seen was anything but what it was. Padmé’s lips twitched, threatening to smile, and she turned her head down, locking her eyes on the table.

“What I mean is…” she sighed, taking a sip of kaf, “Ani and I…”

“I know it’s not just a… fling, if that is what you are thinking.” You finished for her, sensing her apprehension. She turned back to you but didn’t speak, a silent encouragement for you to continue. You did. “Anakin is not one for half measures. And you forget I know love well.” You looked down at your cup. 

Padmé reached out and lay her hand atop of yours in a comforting gesture. You smiled sadly.

“We are married.” She whispered, leaning across the table to further ensure that no one could hear. “You… can’t…”

You shook your head. 

“I would never, Padmé.” 

The news was surprising and not all the same. The commitment to one another was not surprising. Anakin looked at Padmé like she owned all the stars in the galaxy. There was no doubt in your mind that they were soulmates. But surprising because it had only been a little over a year since they had been reunited. 

“You don’t share the Jedi’s fear of attachment?” Padmé questioned. 

You shook your head. It had been an internal battle of yours since that night on Coruscant. Obi-Wan’s rejection. His insistence on the immorality of your actions… It had forced your entire thought pattern into question. Were you wrong? Was what you felt so against being one with the force? Was it holding you back? Was it taking you down the path to the dark side? 

It was part of the reason you had become so good at meditation. You had seen Yoda gain so much clarity, so many answers from his meditation and so you had desperately sought to find your own answers in it. Eventually, your internal battle came to its conclusion. 

Loving Obi-Wan Kenobi was against the Jedi Order, but it was not against the Force that shone bright,  _ light _ , inside of you. 

“I do not.” You reaffirmed to your friend, offering her a sad smile. “I… I understand Anakin’s plight.”

The sadness in your eyes took Padmé aback, and she suddenly realised that you were not thinking about your Earth husband as she had previously assumed.

“If you spoke to him, Anakin, the two of you could find… a way…” She murmured. 

You shook your head. Anakin also knew what you had come to terms to in your meditations.

“The Jedi Order will never allow the kind of attachment you and Anakin share.” You said sadly. 

“But-”

“It’s so deeply ingrained in how a Jedi lives…” You shook your head. 

“It’s wrong. Why should you be any less deserving of love? Why should you withhold yourself from it? It’s just… wrong.”

“Maybe.” Was all you could say. 

Silence fell over you, only this time, more comfortable, the lingering tension of your last encounter with Padmé dissipated. R2M2 beeped next to you, powering down after a while of idleness.

“Who is it?” Padmé whispered again, leaning even closer than before. You hesitated, looking up at her. Telling her seemed impossible. You had only ever admitted your infatuation with the golden-haired Jedi Master to yourself. 

_ No fear. _ The force whispered in your gut. 

You reached behind your head, unclasping the locket that sat beneath your Jedi robes. You laid it down on the table between you. 

Padmé stared at it for a second, waiting for you to open it. When you couldn’t bring yourself to, she did it herself. The hologram flickered, and for the first time ever, you turned away, unable to look at it.

“Oh.” You heard her whisper. “Y/N…” 

Her voice held all of the pity you had expected… feared, even. 

“He…” Padmé shook her head. 

“For a while,” you murmured, turning your eyes back down to your kaf, “I thought… he might…”

Padmé watched the hologram again, the moment at the end making her heart clench for you. She could see it in the way her old friend looked at you. It wasn’t crazy of you to have thought that. But…

“Even if he did, Obi-Wan Kenobi would never… could never.” 

“I know.” You nodded, a tear creeping down your cheek. It fell, splashing into your kaf, and you watched it ripple outward. 

“I know.”

  * .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。



All that had been conveyed to you by the Jedi Council was that three Jedi would be waiting for you on Beor. Both you and Padmé were surprised when you landed and the slowly descending ramp of the ship revealed those Jedi to be Anakin, Obi-Wan and Ahsoka alongside a number of Beorans. 

Padmé was trained in her reactions, from months of hiding and sneaking around the council. Around Obi-Wan. You, however, were not so experienced, and having just spilt your feelings about the very Jedi standing before you… it was enough to make your jaw drop.

“It hasn’t been that long, has it Bunny?” Anakin teased immediately, and you fought to regain composure.

“I was just shocked to see that you hadn’t lost another limb since we saw each other last.” 

Obi-Wan threw his head back in a laugh and you couldn’t help but acknowledge how much older he looked. It had been only two months since you’d seen Anakin in a precarious situation with Padmé on Coruscant. It had been five months since you’d seen Obi-Wan. He looked tired and weary, and you wished you’d seen him more, so that the shock of it didn’t hurt you so much.

“I missed you!” Ahsoka ran to you and you laughed as she nearly tackled you to the ground. You laughed, embracing her fully in your arms.

Ahsoka was like your niece. You had known her ever since she had become Anakin’s Padawan and had acted almost as her confidant for times when neither Anakin nor Obi-Wan were accommodating for her wily ways. You had an uncanny ability to empathise with her restless nature whilst also bringing her back to reality, grounding her in the brevity of the situation in a way that Kenobi and Skywalker had not yet mastered. You often joked that it was a feminine touch. 

“Woah there,  _ A _ ,” you chuckled, wrapping one arm around her as you descended the ramp toward Anakin and Obi-Wan.

“Ahsoka.” Obi-Wan’s voice was steady, his Jedi Master voice, one you had heard him use many a time on Anakin. Ahsoka rolled her eyes but detached herself from your side, crossing her hands in front of her. She bowed her head.

“Sorry, Master Kenobi.”

“Senator Amidala, Lieutenant Y/N, may I present Duke Holst, Prime Minister Tem Gyzaar and Beor’s new Trade Minister, Kerta Mayli.” Obi-Wan gestured to three well-dressed Beorans stood behind them, flanked by guards wearing deep red armour. They wore traditional Beoran headdresses you understood to be custom for each of their positions. Duke Holst wore a large gold, antler-like headpiece adorned with intricate jewels, the Prime Minister Gyzaar donned a gold band across his forehead, maroon coloured silks twisted into a large plait down his back, and the new trade minister was wrapped in a thin, deep brown headscarf, small crystals on gold chains threaded in between the fabric. 

“Your Grace, Prime Minister, Trade Minister.” Padmé addressed them as both of you bent into the customary Beor greeting. They mimicked your movements.

“May I say, I am sorry for your sudden loss.” You added politely, offering your sincere condolences. The Trade Minister met your eyes and narrowed her own.

“Thank you, Jedi.” She spoke first, and there was a moment's hesitation before she smiled. “Come, you must be weary from travel. We will show you your quarters.”

“Minister Mayli, we are eager to start trade-” Anakin’s boldness was cut short.

“With  _ respect _ , Master Skywalker,” the Trade Minister stopped walking, “it is custom on Beor to hold a dinner for our guests  _ before _ the politics begin.”

“Forgive my former Padawan, Kerta.” Obi-Wan leapt into his disaster management role, and you couldn’t help but admire the speed at which he was able to sweep up Anakin’s mess. “I can promise you, that we look forward to our meal with Your Grace.” He bowed at the Duke, and when their backs were turned, continuing to lead you through the courtyard of the palace, he shot a glare at Anakin. 

**Patience** . Obi-Wan’s force message was short and loud, penetrating not only Anakin’s mind but your own and Ahsoka’s. All of you shifted uncomfortably.

You ended up falling into step with Obi-Wan as you walked, Padmé and Anakin behind you, Ahsoka and R2M2 behind that. The walk through the grounds was long, leading you through courtyard after courtyard, down corridor after corridor, and you understood it to be a tactic - a display of supremacy.

“You look good, Lieutenant,” Obi-Wan murmured, lips pulling up into a smirk. His words made your head spin and you fought to keep yourself from devolving into thoughts of the meaning behind his words.

“You look like shit, General,” you teased back, and Obi-Wan chuckled quietly. It was a lie. He looked tired and a little battle-worn, but he was still as handsome as ever. In fact, as his beard grew and his hair went another month without attention, you would’ve argued he was even more attractive. 

“Are you nervous about your first mission without Master Yoda?” He asked. You walked past a golden statue at least 10 ft tall, and the Duke turned back to make sure the looks on your faces conveyed the appropriate awe at your surroundings. You morphed your expression into one of wonderment and the Duke smiled, satisfied, turning back ahead. 

“Strangely, no.” You smiled back at Obi-Wan. “Are you nervous about having to try and control  _ three _ Padawans?”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “I fear that Anakin will be the most difficult of them all, and  _ he _ is no longer a Padawan.”

“Hmm, I don’t know, I reckon I could give him a run for his money.”

“Oh, I have no doubt about that.” 

You shared a knowing smile, and his eyes were so full of warmth you could’ve melted into a puddle on the sandstone floor beneath your feet.

“You have shown great skill in diplomacy, Y/N.” He mused a few seconds later, after both of you had paused walking to stare at a ruby-encrusted tiara encased in glass, politely pretending you were discussing its impressiveness.

“You’ve been keeping tabs on me?” 

“Master Yoda speaks highly of you.”

Of course. You felt yourself heat up with embarrassment at your suggestion that he had thought about you often. Obi-Wan noticed, and wanted to tell you that he had in fact kept tabs on you - reading your mission reports,  _ asking _ Yoda about your progress. Instead, he stayed silent, and you both continued walking.

Finally, after one more corridor of intricate statues and impressive artworks, the Beorans halted before two large doors just ahead of you. 

“These will be the Jedi’s chambers.” The Prime Minister gestured towards the door, and two guards pushed them open. “We will allow you to get settled. Senator Amidala, if you would like to follow us.”

You shot Padmé an apologetic smile, knowing she would have to suffer through more elaborate hallways, and then followed the guards into the room ahead of you. It was a vast and lavish looking sitting room, covered in deep red velvet, gold trims and dark wood. It reminded you of the manor houses you had seen in period films back on Earth. Like a grand palace in Spain or Portugal. 

“Impressive.” Ahsoka pushed past you, jumping onto one of the large velvet sofas and kicking her feet up as though this were home. 

“There are three bedrooms.” Kerta Mayli’s voice made you jump, having thought she had joined the Duke and Prime Minister in leading Padmé to her quarters. When you turned to face her, she was smirking, and you narrowed your eyes at her. “Two that way and one this way.” She motioned to either side of the room.

“I will share with Ahsoka.” You turned to Obi-Wan, who nodded.

“If you need anything, please let us know.” Kerta purred, focused on Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan turned to her and smiled, and you glanced at Anakin. Both of you shared a knowing look, eyebrows raised and smirks pulling at the corners of your lips. Unfortunately, you were often not the only one that considered Obi-Wan ridiculously handsome.

“Thank you, Kerta.” Obi-Wan matched her flirtatious tone. “But I am sure we have more than enough to keep us comfortable.” 

“You Jedi and your minimalism.” She shook her head. “Dinner will be in an hour.” She bowed her head in a farewell gesture, and you echoed it, watching as she walked out of the room and closed the doors behind her. The guards lingered, and Obi-Wan frowned.

“If you don’t mind-” 

“You will stand watch outside.” You used the force to persuade the two guards stood by the door, trying not to smile with pride as Anakin and Obi-Wan watched you stunned.

“We will stand watch outside.” They both repeated, and with that, they left, closing the door behind them.

You turned to the stunned Jedi. “What?”

Anakin chuckled, slapping you on the back as he moved to the sofas. “Nice one, Bunny.” He used the force to swing Ahsoka’s legs from the cushions of the sofa, sitting in the now free space beside her.

“Hey!” Ahsoka grumbled. Anakin ignored her.

“Is this dinner really necessary?” Anakin huffed, resting a muddy boot on the expensive-looking coffee table. You and Obi-Wan moved to the sofa opposite. You leaned back into the plush cushions of the seat, toeing your boots off before resting your feet on the coffee table. Obi-Wan relaxed too, leaning back and throwing his arm around the back of the sofa, behind your head, crossing one leg over the other. It took a hell of a lot of Jedi control not to think about how close he was to you right now.

“Representatives from the trade talks have to be present.” Obi-Wan nodded. “I think you, Y/N and I should attend.”

“Hey!” Ahsoka threw her arms out, irritated.

“You’re young, Ahsoka. This needs to be handled cautiously.”

“I have been training as a Jedi longer than Y/N.” Ahsoka gestured to you, hurt in her voice at Obi-Wan’s favouritism. You noticed Anakin frown, trying to figure out why you were to be included. An uncomfortable silence passed over the room as you all considered her words. 

“She’s right, Obi-Wan,” you nodded, smiling at Ahsoka, “I should stay behind also.”

You turned to him, and Obi-Wan nodded, brow furrowing.  _ Yes, yes. That was the right thing to do. _ He thought. Then why hadn’t his mind gone to it first?

Anakin leaned forward, a roguish smile playing at the corners of his lips. 

“Maybe I could also sta-” 

“You’re going, Anakin.” Obi-Wan interrupted his former Padawan and you and Ahsoka giggled, Anakin falling against the sofa cushions with a childish huff.

* * *

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” Ahsoka said a few hours later, after Anakin and Obi-Wan had left for dinner. “I didn’t mean to throw you under the airbus. It was unkind.”

“It’s alright Ahsoka,” you put down your book, tapping a button on R2M2 so that it started playing your album. “I didn’t want to go anyway. I’m not sure that Kerta Mayli likes me all that much.”

“I think it’s just that she likes Obi-Wan  _ too _ much.” Ahsoka teased and you chuckled, shaking your head. Ahsoka dangled her leg over the large bed you were having to share, boot tapping in time with the beat of the song.

“You were right, though. I shouldn’t be down there. I don’t know why Obi-Wan suggested it.”

“You’re a very accomplished Jedi. And Lieutenant.” Ahsoka said, in her steady and knowing voice. “People talk very highly of you.”

_ People, or Obi-Wan?  _ You thought, and then chastised yourself for letting yourself indulge in such a notion.

“I don’t understand why so many of us were sent here.” Ahsoka shook her head, and you couldn’t deny that you had wondered the same thing yourself.

“It did seem rather last minute.” You nodded, thinking on the suddenness of Yoda’s instruction. 

“Although,” she ran her hand over the silk bedding and glanced around at the gold gilded room, “there are worse places to be sent to.”

You laughed in agreement, standing from the bed.

“I’m going to meditate.” You announced, turning to the doors that lead out to a large balcony, overlooking the beautiful lakes and jungles of Beor. Ahsoka had put into words what you had been obsessing over for a while.

Yoda had sensed something. It’s why you were all here. This trade dispute was not out of the ordinary. The Republic had a trade deal with Beor for the last four years, the Beorans providing the Republic with the oil that sat beneath their rich waters, and the Republic affording them protection. After a separatist assassin had killed the Beoran trade minister, Beor had become nervous, wanting to renegotiate the parameters of the existing trade deal.

Every other negotiation you had been to like it, with similar circumstances and relationships, had been a case of finding middle ground. The Republic needed supplies for the war, and the systems wanted more protection. A firm guarantee of such protection was often all it took, and most certainly did not require four Jedi and a senator to settle it.

No, something else had happened here. Why hadn’t Yoda warned you of it? Was this a test? Was he expecting you to sense this? You racked your brain for answers and came up short.

So, you did just as Yoda had instructed you - meditated. 

You shut out the sounds of the world - the sound of Ahsoka seemingly tinkering with something inside your room, the sound of the trees of the jungle behind you rustling in the wind, the sound of a stream nearby. All of it shut out, your attention focused on your force.

It took a while, maybe over an hour, but finally, you completely tuned yourself into the force. It showed you Beor, an oil rig in a lake. It showed you the old trademinister Viera Kopos, struck down by an assassin droid. It showed you darkness, fear, red mist swirling in a jungle clearing. 

It showed you a door, bolted shut, and you pushed to open it, feeling a buzz of electricity behind it-

“Hey Y/N…” Ahsoka’s quiet voice pulled you out of your meditation, the vision you had been having dissipating in a hazed cloud. You sighed, and opened one eye. She stood, arms crossed, looking down at you with a mischievous smile on her lips.

“What did you do?” You sighed, uncrossing your legs and opening the other eye. You leant against the balcony wall, tucking your knees up with your feet planted on the floor. 

“Y’know that opening song of The Dark Side of the Moon?” Ahsoka’s voice held as much mischief as her smile, and you bit your lip to stop yourself from smiling.

“Yes…”

“Well…” Ahsoka rapped her knuckle against R2M2.

“FuUck.” R2M2 let out in a mess of garbled electronic sounds. You recognised it as isolated audio from _Speak to Me_ , the voice in the background of the song now immortalised as a clipped saying. You stared at your droid in shock and Ahsoka tapped it again.

“FUuCKK.” It whirred.

You threw your head back and laughed at the sky. 

“You taught my droid how to  _ curse? _ ” You could barely speak through hiccups of laughter, tears rolling down your cheeks. Ahsoka beamed happily, sliding down next to you. R2M2 beeped. 

“You definitely are Anakin’s Padawan.” You shook your head, finally recovered from your fit of laughter. “Obi-Wan is going to have a fit.”

You heard another distant laughter fade into earshot, and frowned. Both you and Ahsoka crouched, noses resting on the stone edge of the balcony wall. Wandering out a floor below you, arm in arm, was Obi-Wan Kenobi and Kerta Mayli. 

“She really is trying something, huh.” Ahsoka whispered, and you swallowed the lump in your throat, hiding down behind the wall again.

“Something about this whole thing feels…”

“Off.” Ahsoka finished for you, nodding. “I sense it too.  _ Dark. _ ” 

You both fell silent, straining to listen to the conversation, but it was hard, the distance reducing it to unintelligible mumbles. 

“M2, can you enhance?” Ahsoka whispered, and your droid rolled closer to the two of you, antenna protruding over the edge of the balcony. There was a crackle, and then, clear as day, Obi-Wan’s voice.

“Thank you for a wonderful meal, Minister. I can only apologise that General Skywalker and Senator Amidala couldn’t stay longer.” His tone was steady and confident, and you knew he had a plan. 

“That’s quite alright, General. It was so nice of Anakin to offer to walk Senator Amidala to her chambers.” Her voice contained hidden meanings, and you and Ahsoka shared a look. Did she know too?

“Yes, well…” Obi-Wan cleared his throat, and both yours and Ahsoka’s eyes widened. Did Obi-Wan  _ know _ ?

“And here I was thinking the Jedi couldn’t form attachments.” Kerta’s voice was sultry, and you squeezed your eyes shut. You shouldn’t be listening to this. 

“You know that we can’t, Minister.” Obi-Wan’s voice was stern, but it wasn’t enough to scare Kerta Mayli into backing down. She chuckled, lowly, and fear bubbled up inside of you, sensing that the direction this conversation was heading was not good.

“Well, it certainly doesn’t stop  _ you _ .”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.” Obi-Wan retorted, voice level but you sensed nerves. Ahsoka looked at you warily.

“Oh, don’t play dumb, General Kenobi. It doesn’t suit you. If Jedi aren’t allowed attachments,” she purred, and you swallowed thickly, sure she was about to test the limits of Obi-Wan’s Jedi vow herself, “then what is that between you and the good-looking Lieutenant?”

Her words pierced the air like daggers. Ahsoka’s eyes widened, and she searched your face for any sort of horror, anything that suggested that the Beoran Trade Minister’s assumption was way off base. In your expression, she found a different answer.

“I see the way you look at each other,” Kerta continued, “the way you whispered in the hallways. The way you lit up when you saw her on that ship.”

The breath caught in your throat again and you wanted to gasp, the lack of oxygen making your brain spin. You let your head fall against the wall, squeezing your eyes shut even harder. You felt Ahsoka’s eyes on you, burning holes in your skin, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at her.

“You’re out of bounds, Minister.” Obi-Wan warned, only somewhat convincingly.

“Am I?” Kerta hummed, and then there was a silence, thick and heavy, covering the area like a blanket. After a few seconds, you finally opened your eyes, staring up at the sky, tinged pink and orange from the sunset. 

“Y/N…” Ahsoka whispered, and you felt her hand over yours, warm in comparison to the cool stone you were practically clawing at. You looked at her, and she offered you a small smile, opening her mouth to say something but finding no words. You shook your head, assuring her it wasn’t necessary, and you were about to ask M2 to stop transmitting when you heard Kerta Mayli ask...

“Do you dance, General Kenobi?” With her words, came the beginning of a soft violin, and you couldn’t help but let your lips fall open in shock. She couldn’t  _ know _ .

“Once or twice.” Obi-Wan answered, and it wasn’t a lie. It was only the former.

You stood, unable to take it anymore, and you couldn’t help but take a glimpse of the scene below you. Obi-Wan, one hand in Kerta’s and the other on her waist, swaying slowly across the veranda. Like he had done with you. You couldn’t help but sharply inhale this time.

Obi-Wan heard it, faint and quiet through the force, but there all the same, and his eyes drifted upwards until they met yours. You, stood on a balcony, fingers curled around the stone railing, looking down at him with a look in your eyes that made his heart clench.

**Y/N…** he pressed into the force, and Ahsoka had to fight a gasp when she heard it. You shook yourself sane at his words, offering him a small quirk of your lips. 

**Try not to step on her toes.** Your words conveyed your hurt in a way that made Obi-Wan falter in his movements, almost doing exactly what you had teased him against. His hands instinctively loosened on his dance partners waist, but he steeled his nerves. He had a job to do.

**You need to stop doing that.** He sent back to you, and you knew he was talking about the force messages you were sending. You had picked it up easily, surprisingly so, and even as Obi-Wan tried to shield his mind from any further communication, your soft voice still echoed in his mind.

**You need to get better at stopping me.**

Ahsoka listened to every word passing between you, and almost felt guilty for it, reaching out and absorbing the hurt that dripped into the force as you spoke. 

**Maybe you’re not as good as you think.** Obi-Wan gave up on trying to keep you out, forcing himself to focus his attention on dancing.

**Maybe I’m just better than you expected.** You were almost  _ enjoying _ this, your typical back and forth only this time, Obi-Wan was  _ faltering _ . Had it not been for the situation. The  _ ache _ in your heart at seeing his hands on another woman, holding her the way you had taught him to hold you. 

**You’re distracting me** . His voice was harsh, like he spoke to Ahsoka when she was reckless, but it didn’t phase you. Ahsoka watched as your eyebrows raised. Obi-Wan forced another message through;  **I’m trying to-**

**Work?** You interrupted, and Ahsoka held her breath. **I’ll get out of your hair then, General** .

And with that, you turned on your heels and headed back inside. Obi-Wan watched over his dance partner’s shoulders as your figure disappeared into the shadows of your chambers. He had an overwhelming urge to push Kerta away, to run through the halls of the palace, to your room and-

He stopped his thought process dead in the tracks. No. No, he had a  _ job _ to do.

Ahsoka couldn’t move. She was stunned by the events that had just transpired, almost wanting to laugh at how wild it had been. She was even more stunned at how she could’ve  _ missed  _ what the Trade Minister had picked up on from a few minutes in your presence. 

She finally rose from her position on the floor, assuring she was still hidden but the wall as she sneaked across the balcony. Her hand reached out to M2 for balance, and at the slightest touch…

“FuUCcKk.”

“Yeah, M2. Fuck indeed.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there is no strict schedule for this fic anymore but i will try my hardest to get parts out weekly/fortnightly


	4. Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Revelations are made and the diplomacy mission takes a turn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obi-Wan shrugging his cloak off before a duel is something that can be so personal... and sexy

21 BBY

_And you run, and you run to catch up with the sun, but it's sinking_

_Racing around to come up behind you again_

_The sun is the same in a relative way, but you're older_

_Shorter of breath, and one day closer to death_

* * *

All the time Obi-Wan was dancing with Kerta Mayli, sidestepping carefully across the sunset-bathed veranda, he couldn’t help but think of you. The dance was clunky, disjointed, and so much of it was spent in his head. It felt nothing like how he had glided across your chamber floor as if you were both floating in clouds. Kerta’s hand in his felt controlling, demanding, _clutching_ , unlike yours which had moulded with his palm perfectly. It all felt wrong, and your words, lingering painfully in the force like dredges of kaf in a cup, only made it worse.

He couldn’t bring himself to dance with Kerta for more than one song. He passed it off as politeness, hoping she would know that one dance was already more than a Jedi could give. 

“You are a surprisingly good dancer, General Kenobi.” Kerta mused, watching as Obi-Wan turned his back to her. She was too perceptive. Too good at reading emotions he was usually so adept at concealing. 

“Yes well…” He looked out over the lake below, mind unable to move his thoughts on from you. “Someone once told me that dancing was like fighting.” 

“And you are exceptionally good at that.” Kerta moved to stand beside him. “I can’t convince you to partake in another dance?”

“It would not be appropriate.” Obi-Wan shook his head. 

“Hmm, indeed…” Kerta smiled knowingly.

Obi-Wan would’ve matched her playfulness had he not been so wrapped up in his thoughts. They swirled around his head like a mess of seaweed, tangling and knotting, and as he tried desperately to swim through them, he only felt himself going deeper and deeper. 

It had been his plan to establish a strong relationship with the new Beoran Trade Minister. Obi-Wan was no stranger to his effect on women across the galaxy and he used it to his advantage. It never reached beyond flirtation and he never had any qualms with his actions.

Not until now. And not because his actions contradicted the ways of the order. No… Because they contradicted his ever-harder to ignore feelings for you.

“If you’ll excuse me, Trade Minister,” he cleared his throat, offering her an unconvincing smile, “but I must rest before our talks tomorrow.”

“Very well, General Kenobi.” Kerta bowed her head. Obi-Wan bowed respectfully, before crossing the veranda to the doors in four quick strides. Two guards pulled them open, and he was about to disappear into the palace’s labyrinth of hallways when Kerta’s voice halted him in his tracks.

“Obi-Wan?” 

He turned to face her, fearful of the mysterious glint in her eyes.

“Don't take time for granted, General. After all, we are in the middle of a war.”

* * *

Ahsoka crawled her way back into your shared room, wincing at the feeling of hard stone against her knees. Once in the doorway, she stood up straight, searching for you. She found you sat up against the headboard, knees to your chest and eyes squeezed shut.

“I’m sorry, Ahsoka.” You murmured, sensing her presence. Ahsoka shrugged, even though you couldn’t see it, and sat down at the end of the bed.

“Hey, Anakin Skywalker is my Master.” She reached out, laying a gentle hand on your knee. “I think I know how to deal with being a third wheel.” 

You choked out a laugh. 

“You know about him and…”

“Controlling his emotions has never been Skyguy’s strong suit. He reads like an open book.”

You nodded in agreement. Despite having felt confident in your actions a few moments ago, you now found yourself wishing you had never laid eyes on him and Kerta. Wishing you had never let your feelings get the best of you. It wasn’t the Jedi way. You had to learn to control your emotions. You would never be a good Jedi if you-

“How long?” Ahsoka could practically read the thoughts running through your mind by the look in your eyes. 

“How long what?” You frowned, and she flashed you a sad smile, squeezing your knee.

“Have you and Obi-Wan been-”

“We aren’t. We haven’t. We… never.” You shook your head. It surprised Ahsoka. Maybe she hadn’t missed as much as she thought she had...

“Nothing?” She pressed, furrowing her brow. It sure as hell hadn’t sounded like nothing when Kerta had brought it up. It sure as hell hadn’t _felt_ like nothing in the force. 

“We danced. Once. Over a year ago. But he…” You trailed off, unable to meet your friend's eye as you desperately sought to block her from the increasing feeling of heartbreak threatening to overwhelm you.

“Freaked out?”

“Yeah.” You said, voice small. 

Ahsoka didn’t say anything else. She wasn’t sure what she could say to comfort you. You had already discussed both of your feelings on the Jedi rule against attachments. If the Jedi way was through compassion, kindness and love, how could you not form attachments? But nothing she could say, a Padawan just as you were, could reassure you. She could only hope that her compassion was felt in her actions - in her presence - rather than her words. 

Eventually, you relaxed a little, no longer shrinking in on yourself but slowly unfurling outward. You were about to thank Ahsoka for understanding, for being here for you, when there was a quiet knock on the door. Your nerves flared again, and Ahsoka picked up on it. She squeezed your leg and stood, making her way over to the door.

When Anakin’s Padawan opened the door, Obi-Wan almost cursed himself for forgetting you were sharing a room. He had made his way up here expecting only you. He hadn’t had his guards up. When Ahsoka’s eyes met his own, he didn’t have the time to exert enough control over his emotions to conceal them.

Ahsoka stared at her Master with wide eyes, searching for what she had missed for months. She saw his vulnerability, a vulnerability she had not been privy to in the time she had known him, and it saddened her. It saddened her that someone she cared about so deeply, _multiple_ people she cared about so deeply, had to tuck these parts of them away for the sake of the Order.

She cleared her throat awkwardly.

“Erm… I’m going to… take M2 for a… walk?” She frowned and quickly ducked past Obi-Wan, M2 trundling quickly behind her.

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at the man you knew was standing in your doorway, eyes fixed on the view out of the doorway beside you. Obi-Wan tried to reach out to you through the force, to reassure you that he was not angry or upset, that he only wanted to talk, but he found your defences up. They were easily surpassable with his skill level. If he wanted, he could push a feeling or phrase through, but that wasn’t the point. Your defences, even if physically surpassable, he could and would not bring himself to breach if you didn’t wish him to. 

Still, you needed to talk. So, he stepped inside your room, closed the door behind him, and then walked straight past your bed, out onto the balcony he had caught you on just moments ago. 

When he crossed your line of sight, back turned to you as he made his way to the railing, you sucked in a breath. You hesitated, unsure as to whether he wanted you to follow. Whether you wanted to talk this out tonight or just leave it - forget about it and never bring it up again, just as you had so painfully done for over a year with your last encounter.

After a few moments of contemplation, you stood, padding quietly out to the balcony.

Obi-Wan was leaning against the stone railing, looking out across the jungle ahead as the sun fought to keep its light in the sky. You perched yourself on the wall, facing towards the building, awaiting the criticism you were bound to face. 

To your surprise, when Obi-Wan turned to look at you, his eyes were soft and held no intention of malice.

“What if she had seen you?” His voice was teasing, and you let out a relieved breath that the earlier situation hadn’t hindered _this_. 

“She wouldn’t have. I had it under control.” You teased back.

“You’re starting to sound like Anakin.” Obi-Wan shook his head in mock disappointment. He felt your defences crumble. He felt the anxiety wash away from your features, replaced with a calm joy. 

“Is that such a terrible thing?” You challenged.

“For me, it is,” he grumbled under his breath. “Besides, if you had it under control then why didn't you stop when I told you to?"

“I said I had it under control, not that I was under _yours_.” The usual feeling of overwhelming happiness that came with your verbal sparring matches with Obi-Wan swelled inside you. 

“Now you’re really starting to sound like Anakin.” He smirked, and you wanted to take a picture of this moment. On this beautiful planet. Him smiling at you with the backdrop of turquoise lakes and luscious greenery, blue and green. You and Obi-Wan.

“Yes, but Anakin can’t get under your skin quite like I can.” You leaned a little closer to him, arms folding over your chest. Obi-Wan stood up straighter. 

“I had it under control.” His hands twitched, wanting to brush against your fingers, to do something. There was a palpable electricity between you that so often occurred when you partook in your battle of wits. It buzzed gently, steadily, but each time Obi-Wan felt it, he wanted _more_. You beamed up at him, and he wanted to make you smile like this forever.

“Now who’s sounding like Anakin?” You mocked. Obi-Wan rolled his eyes.

“Will you stop bringing Anakin into this?”

You held up your hands in surrender.

“Hey, you brought him into this first.” 

There was a pause, but it wasn’t an end to the match, merely a resting period between round one and round two. You were dangerously close now, your hands inches apart on the stone railing. The electric feeling was rising, and you dug your nails into stone to stop your fingers from magnetising to Obi-Wan’s.

“You could’ve cost me a valuable advantage in negotiations.” Obi-Wan took the first strike in the second round.

“I thought you said you had it under control.” You smirked.

“I did. I’m just still not convinced you did too.”

“I was merely commenting on your unorthodox negotiation technique.”

“Unorthodox?” Obi-Wan cocked his head. 

“I didn’t think flirting with the enemy was the Jedi way, General.” You mirrored his movement. 

“I was not flirting. And Kerta Mayli is not the enemy.” His eyes glinted playfully, and he leaned even closer this time, arm brushing against yours. You wanted to reach out and run the fabric of his sleeve through your fingers, pull him closer, but you stuck with your battle of wits.

“I think I know when you’re flirting, Obi-Wan.” You didn’t back down, and Obi-Wan tried not to smirk at the look in your eyes. “And I wouldn’t be so sure of her intentions.” 

“Her intentions?”

“You’re a Jedi, Obi-Wan, not a child. You know what I’m talking about.” You scoffed, but Obi-Wan caught a flash of something in your eyes. Was it…? Coupled with the comments you made earlier, he took a calculated gamble.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were jealous.” He mused, twinkle glistening brighter in his eye. Your breath caught in your throat and you instinctively turned your gaze away from him, looking off the balcony and across the overgrown jungle below. That comment threatened to expose too much of you. It was testing your nerve. 

You thought over your response carefully. Considerately. All paths of thought lead to the same conclusion.

There was no point in denying it. 

Although you pulled enjoyment from it, you were tired of Obi-Wan getting pleasure out of your constant back and forth. Him teasing despite his restraint, you denying to save face. So you just told him, outright and without fear;

"You _know_ I am."

Obi-Wan had not been expecting that, and his smile faltered.

You were usually so eager to retort. So willing to match his sarcasm. Over the years you had both pushed the limit of flirtation, before reigning it in quickly. He realised then that you could no longer mask your affections with humour as he so desperately tried to with his own. That trying to hide your feelings was becoming just as difficult for you as it was for him.

The silence that fell over you shocked you, no witty response coming from Master Kenobi’s lips, and you turned to him to see if he was okay.

The look on Obi-Wan’s face made you think you had gone too far, again. You always seemed to. Just as you were getting on, you went and ruined it with your big mouth. Anxiety crept up in your lungs and you turned your head down to stare at your feet, curling your toes in your socks.

“I’m joking, Obi-Wan.” You weren’t convincing. You knew you weren’t. You weren’t even trying to be, just desperate to change the topic of conversation.

“Y/N,” Obi-Wan murmured, but it didn’t stop your babbling.

“Besides, it _may_ help in renegotiations.”

“ _Darling_.”

You ignored the pet name, squeezing your eyes shut.

“I think it’s going to be more difficult than we think. Viera Kopos was a beloved trade minister and-”

“Darling, please look at me.” Obi-Wan was practically pleading, and yet you still couldn’t force yourself to look at him, the fear of rejection holding you back.

“I should probably go and discuss this with Padmé-”

Obi-Wan didn’t know what other words would return your attention to him. He searched his brain for the solution and found only one. He reached out, fingers pressing lightly on the underside of your chin and pulled you towards him, stepping closer and pushing your head upwards. 

You barely had time to comprehend his actions before you felt warmth pressing against your lips. The pressure was soft and the movement hesitant. You could smell the cinnamon-like scent of his soap and tasted wine on his lips - sweet and velvety.

Then, it hit you suddenly, loudly, overwhelming all your senses. Obi-Wan Kenobi was _kissing_ you. He was voluntarily _kissing_ you. 

Thoughts flew out of your head, anxiety leaking out of you like a tap, and all your brain was telling you was, _kiss him back._

So you did, shuffling even closer so you were pressed against him. You raised your hand, laying it on his cheek, palm ticklish under the scratchiness of his beard, and you _kissed him_.

It was a polite kiss. Lasting only a few seconds, lips pressed cautiously against one another, testing the waters until Obi-Wan broke away slowly.

“Y/N,” he murmured, tracing his fingers up your jawline. His lips felt like galaxies looked, prickled with stars and cold with the absence of your own against them. A year ago, he would have pulled away, repulsed by his actions. Now, seconds after committing fully to what he had been taught to fear, all he wanted to do was pull you close and crash his lips to yours.

A different thought process was running through your mind, however. As amazing and as magical as Obi-Wan’s lips had felt, you couldn’t help but think back to Coruscant and the rejection you had suffered when he had chosen the Order over you. The heartbreak you had endured the weeks following.

As if as a survival instinct, you pulled away, sure that in a few seconds Obi-Wan would remind you how _wrong_ it was.

“No,” Obi-Wan whispered as you pulled away, resting his forehead against your own. He closed his eyes and you held your breath as he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss against your cheek.

“Obi-Wan...” Your breath hitched as he planted another kiss on your cheek again, inching closer and closer to your mouth, “the Jedi Order.”

Your mind raced and you felt Obi-Wan’s head shake slightly, hair tickling your skin. He laid one last kiss at the corner of your mouth, hand now cupping your cheek and holding it in place.

“It doesn’t matter,” he whispered against your mouth, and without a second more hesitation, he collided his lips with yours in a searing kiss that had your head spinning. 

* * *

Ahsoka roamed the halls of Beor’s palace with R2M2 by her side, the hilt of one of her lightsabers spinning skillfully in her hand. M2 was still playing Pink Floyd as he rolled along, and Ahsoka hummed the tunes that had become so familiar amongst her found family.

“This place sure is impressive, huh, M2?” She muttered, looking up at a vast tapestry that hung from the top of the double-height ceiling all the way down to the ground, depicting an ancient battle - settler soldiers in metal armour slaying natives in the wilds of the Beoran jungle. Ahsoka winced at the image, the helplessness of the natives and the destruction of their home pulling at her heart.

“Lovely history,” she shook her head, turning away from the tapestry and continuing down the hallway, rounding a corner. Ahsoka paused in front of a marble statue, two lovers holding each other in their arms. 

“How did I not notice?” She mused, shaking her head. She knew she’d never know from Obi-Wan. He was a master at hiding his emotions. But _you_ … You had both had such personal conversations. About what it meant to be a Jedi, debates and discussions about the rules and their contradictions. How had you not told her?… Not given her any indication that-

“beEEP.” M2 interrupted Ahsoka’s train of thought and she looked down at the droid expectantly. His projector compartment opened, and a projection stuttered to life. You, Anakin and Obi-Wan, before Ahsoka had been assigned as Skywalker’s Padawan. You all looked younger, more innocent, and Ahsoka was particularly shocked at the difference between _you_ then and you now. 

You, who had at the point this hologram was taken, had fought in a grand total of four battles. You who had probably thought the war would be over by now. You who had only been a Jedi for a little over a year, so much left to learn, so much left to suffer. 

She watched as Obi-Wan turned to look at you and you at him, the briefest of moments telling a tale of a lifetime. This had been building for a long time. Definitely before this hologram had been taken. Almost assuredly since the moment Obi-Wan had laid eyes on you on the floor of the High Council Chamber. Ahsoka smiled sadly. 

“Well…”

The blue-pixelated image shrank into nothingness, and M2 retracted his projector, moving forward with Ahsoka down the corridor. They reached a junction - right down another vast corridor adorned with artefacts, or left through a slightly ajar door. 

Ahsoka turned left, pushing the door open and stepping into a dark undecorated passageway. She hesitated for a second, considering turning back, but something strange stirred inside her. The force, telling her to push on.

“Pause.” M2 obeyed her command instantly, the soft guitar cutting out and leaving the cold hallway in blistering silence. Ahsoka narrowed her eyes. 

“Wait for me here, M2,” she commanded, taking a step further into the shadows in front of her. Something felt _dark._ The force in the air was heavy, and Ahsoka’s hand gripped around her lightsaber, knuckles taught. Eventually, the hallway led to a spiral staircase, descending into the shadows, and she followed it down, using the wall as a guide in the pitch black. 

The temperature dropped and the silence was penetrated by a steady hum of electricity, slowly building as Ahsoka made her way deeper into the basement of the palace. She felt her skin prickle, the force churning inside her. A faint light began to illuminate the hallway, and the hand that had been steadying herself on the wall moved to her belt, hovering over her second saber. 

The stairs led to a small hallway, to a large door bolted shut. The buzz of electricity was loud, and Ahsoka lay a hand on the warped wood before her, shutting her eyes and _feeling_. Her brows furrowed, trying to sort through the feeling whatever was behind this door gave her before it hit her. 

Her eyes flew open, she pushed the force through her hand and to the door, unbolting it and throwing it open to reveal exactly what she had feared.

In the room before her were hundreds of B1 battle droids, hunched over in the position they took while powered down. 

“Shit,” she muttered, turning on her heels and running back up the stairs. When M2 caught sight of her, scrambling frantically up the spiral staircase, he whirred and beeped anxiously, shifting back and forth on his treads.

“Come on, M2.” Ahsoka led the droid back into the warm palace hallways, an illusion as to what was hidden beneath. “I think we might be a little outnumbered.”

* * *

“I’m not sure I like that Kerta Mayli is the last person I danced with.” Obi-Wan’s voice pulled your head upwards from its position on his chest. You didn’t know how long you had been standing here in his arms, just holding one another as the sun set. You smiled, resting your chin on his sternum. He tilted his head down, forehead inches from your own, lips creeping slowly towards your mouth.

“Well, I can go find Anakin for you, I’m sure he’d be more than happy to teach you how to Tango,” you murmured, just as he was about to press a kiss to your lips. You felt a breath of frustration fan over your face and you grinned.

“ _Please_ stop bringing my Padawan up when I’m about to kiss you, darling,” he murmured, brushing his lips against your own. You smiled into the kiss and suddenly you were swaying, Obi-Wan moving you softly against the stone floor of the balcony.

“Where’s M2 when you need him?” You murmured, wrapping your arms around his middle even tighter and resting your head back on his chest. Then, Obi-Wan did something neither of you expected. 

He began to hum. Softly, barely audible above the sounds of the jungle, but there. It was an unfamiliar tune to you, not Pink Floyd or anything you’d heard in Cantina’s in this universe. It sounded like a sea shanty, soothing and smooth, and your eyes fluttered shut, wanting to lose yourself in the sound of Obi-Wan. 

“What is that?” You asked softly and regretted it instantly because Obi-Wan’s hums trailed off.

“Oh, er…” He cleared his throat, “I’m sorry it’s an old travellers song, I thought-”

“Hey, no,” you pulled back to smile up at him, catching his eyes and raising a hand to his cheek to reassure him. “It’s beautiful. Does it have words?”

“Yeah,” he grinned down at you, “it’s not very romantic though.”

“Neither is Pink Floyd but we managed,” you teased. You returned your head to his chest, swaying for a moment more in silence before…

[ (song link) ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L5FBihOyOg0&list=PLrBOhBQukND1OJ-XQAhuMF45gNladOETr&index=9)

_“T_ _he scar of rage is on my head, the life scars on my hands,_

_We both stood an instant gone where now one only stands, where now one only stands.”_

Obi-Wan sang quietly, his tone low and smooth, and… it surprised you. Maybe it shouldn’t have. A man so lyrical in his speech was bound to have the voice of an angel, but it still took your breath away all the same.

_“I've seen the monster at the core no man should ever see,_

_and I've seen my angel weak and pale and both of them are me, and both of them-”_

“Hey, erm… guys?” 

Obi-Wan abruptly stopped singing and pulled back, the absence of him and his arms around you strikingly cold. Ahsoka stood before you, out of breath but smirking. You watched as Obi-Wan turned his gaze to the floor, embarrassed, and tried not to let it get to you. 

“As cute as this is…” Ahsoka trailed off, and you shot her a glare, desperate to save Obi-Wan from any further discomfort. She headed your warning, and her expression changed to a more serious one. “We have a problem.”

* * *

“I apologise, General,” Padmé smiled at Obi-Wan as she sat down first, the rest of you following. You and Obi-Wan on one sofa, Padmé and Anakin on the other and Ahsoka cross legged on the floor. “I asked Anakin to accompany me to the lakes. I heard they were beautiful on Beor.”

You and Ahsoka shared a knowing smile, and Obi-Wan merely nodded.

“Ahsoka, will you catch Anakin and Padmé up to speed.”

Ahsoka looked up at her Grandmaster with a raised eyebrow and a smirk playing at her lips.

“On the super-secret droid army locked up in the basement or the way I caught you with your tong-”

“The ARMY, Ahsoka,” Obi-Wan roared, but his flushing cheeks and the way he shifted uncomfortably in his seat prevented his words from wounding the young padawan, and her smirk only grew. Your emotions battled between that of a similar embarrassment displayed by Obi-Wan and unfiltered amusement.

Ahsoka proceeded to update the couple across from you on what she had seen, Anakin and Obi-Wan sharing looks as the tale developed. You watched carefully, narrowing your eyes. Anakin was not surprised enough.

“You knew,” you mused, crossing your arms over your chest. Obi-Wan turned to you, eyes meeting yours. He must have seen the hurt that was bubbling up inside you betray your features because his eyes softened.

“Not exactly… not to this extent.” When you didn’t let up in your defensive stance, he sighed. “The Council asked me to come because they suspect Kerta Mayli is a Sith apprentice, _not_ in fact Beor’s new trade minister.”

“I knew something was off with her,” Ahsoka muttered, shaking her head.

The hurt that had lingered beneath your emotions suddenly bloomed, and your eyes flitted away from Obi-Wan’s. He hated how that made him feel.

“Yoda knew and didn’t tell me,” you murmured, more to yourself than anyone else in the room. “How am I supposed to prepare when-”

“It was necessary, Y/N. They couldn’t risk underestimating Kerta’s skill. If you had known, and she had sensed that in you…” Obi-Wan wanted to reach out and lay a hand on your knee, to rub soothing circles across your skin with his thumb. To brush his lips against your furrowed brow and promise you he’d never lie to you again. But he was all too aware of the people in the room.

“I didn’t know either, Bunny,” Anakin shot you a reassuring smile, “I only began to suspect something at dinner.” 

“Sending this many Jedi here was reckless,” Padmé shook her head, frowning at the council’s intentions. “She must know we suspect something.”

“Yes… yes… Perhaps…” Obi-Wan mused, mulling over a plan in his mind. 

“What if we left?” Anakin suggested.

“And just let the giant droid army sit here?” Ahsoka scoffed.

“ _No,_ I mean… what if half of us left? Contact Cody and Rex, bring the fleets closer. The others can stay behind and... negotiate?”

“As if we know nothing?” You pressed.

“Well… you’re right, Padmé. Sending all of us has potentially tipped Kerta off to our awareness-” 

“ _Some_ of our awareness,” you grumbled, cutting Obi-Wan off.

“You sensed it, Lieutenant. Don’t underestimate your own skill. You told me she was our enemy.” Obi-Wan’s voice was hard, not reassuring, and you knew he was scolding your pettiness. 

“And you reassured me she was not.” You shot a glare his way, but Obi-Wan caught a glimpse of something in your eye. He felt the familiar bubble of excitement as you bantered, and you fought a smirk despite how peeved you were at him. Another time, he could relish in this, right now he had work to do. He turned back to the group.

“It _has_ potentially tipped Kerta off to our awareness of their betrayal. Now, if all five of us stay for negotiations, that would reaffirm her suspicions, and we would be fighting what now appears to be an even greater enemy than we had imagined alone.” Obi-Wan’s voice was firm. “If half of us leave, then we can _maybe_ convince her that we realised this renegotiation needed fewer people than we thought… that us coming here was a show of how important Beor was to the Republic but we are _so sure_ of their allegiance to the Republic that we sent half of our best fighters home.”

“She won’t be convinced of that.” Ahsoka shook her head, and you smiled at Obi-Wan.

“No…” you agreed, “but it _will_ provide a smokescreen whilst the others get help.”

Anakin pondered.

“And what if they stop us from leaving?” Padmé asked.

“They wouldn’t,” you shook your head, “in doing so they would be admitting something was wrong, and they can’t afford to lose the upper hand right now.”

“So who stays behind and who goes?” Ahsoka questioned, and Obi-Wan considered his words carefully.

“Padmé should go. Kerta is a Sith and...” Anakin pressed, anxious for his wife’s safety. 

“Ahsoka has seen too much. If we go into the trade talks with her memory of the droid army… Our plans to delay may be ruined,” Obi-Wan stated and this time, Ahsoka didn’t argue.

“So me and you then, Master?” Anakin quirked an eyebrow, and you tried not to be hurt as he dismissed you.

“No… No… I need you coordinating the attack. Y/N and I will stay. Kerta likes her.”

“Kerta hates me.” You corrected him. 

“Kerta likes messing with you.” Obi-Wan turned his eyes back to you, narrowing them. You smiled. 

“You two can sure talk your way around a fight.” Anakin scoffed, shaking his head at your exchange. 

“Exactly,” Obi-Wan nodded, “and besides, Yoda sent her here to prove herself. So prove herself she will.”

* * *

Anakin, Padmé and Ahsoka left quickly, taking M2 with them. The guards reluctantly led them to Padmé’s ship, trying and failing to get Kerta there before the vehicle made its ascent into the sky. You and Obi-Wan remained in your chambers, watching from the balcony as your friend’s vehicle was reduced to a small spot amongst a star-speckled sky. 

“This was never a diplomacy mission, was it?” You mused, leaning against the balcony railing as Obi-Wan rested against the door frame. He smiled, and when you turned to look at him, he was shaking his head.

“No, my love,” he sighed, and you made your way over to him, tucking yourself into his side as he wrapped an arm around your waist. “But your combat prowess is reported to be even better than your negotiation skills.”

“You’ve been talking to Yoda about my combat skills?” You looked up at him, quirking an eyebrow. He merely nodded, and you tried not to melt into him when his hand reached up to roll the twisted hair of your Padawan braid between his fingers...

“She’s going to want to talk to us tonight.” You sighed, looking back out over the jungle surrounding the palace, now merely shadowed silhouettes of trees, lit only by the reflection of Beor’s moons in the lake. 

“Oh, I’m counting on it. Anakin will be able to get the 501st here by morning, we just have to stall until then.”

“Your confidence in being able to hold off hundreds of droids _and_ a sith is admirable but so… _insane._ ” You shook your head, and Obi-Wan chuckled.

“I was thinking, we could just lead them on a bit of a chase.” 

You and Obi-Wan were right. Barely an hour later, as you were both lounging on the sofas of your chambers after having spent a short while meditating, there was a sharp knock at your door. Both of you stood immediately, and Obi-Wan shot a smirk your way. It calmed your nerves instantly, and that coupled with the centring you had found in your meditation prepared you for what was about to happen.

“Come in,” Obi-Wan called out, and the heavy door to your chambers swung open, revealing the Prime Minister Gyzaar. 

“Your presence is requested in the Great Hall.” His voice was flat and emotionless, but his eyes betrayed him. Fear, apprehension. 

“Well it is awfully late and we were just about to turn in for-”

“Your presence is _insisted_ in the Great Hall,” Gyzaar snapped angrily, but his tone had no effect on either of you. Obi-Wan sighed theatrically, and it took all your strength to not lose your composure and devolve into a fit of laughter.

The two of you were led through the corridors by the Prime Minister, flanked by at least a dozen guards. This time as you walked, you did not stare respectfully at the impressive surroundings, instead fixing your gaze to the plaited silk braid of Gyzaar’s headpiece so that when the Beoran leader turned around to check on your expression, it was not one of fear or intimidation as he wanted, but of irritating indifference.

The Great Hall of Beoran’s palace was impressive. It was almost as impressive as the Jedi Temple, ceilings stretching up to the heavens. Only it held none of the minimalism of the Jedi Temple. The walls were as ornately decorated as the hallways, with paintings almost triple the size of those you had seen before, and the traditional Beoran colour scheme of deep red and gold ran through the room. In the room, sat a throne made of what looked like pure gold and sat atop it was the Duke. 

You were fairly certain that half of Beor’s guards were also in the room, lining the walls so that when you were led to the centre of the room, you were surrounded. Sat on the steps leading up to the throne, was Kerta Mayli. She was not wearing her usual gown and headpiece, but instead robes made of black leather and thick cotton. 

“Your grace,” you bowed at the Duke, and Obi-Wan echoed your movement. You fixed your gaze on Kerta as you lowered your head, narrowing your eyes as she smirked.

“I’m surely mistaken but… was that not Senator Amidala’s ship leaving moments ago?” Kerta spoke. Obi-Wan shot her a false smile.

“Yes it was.”

“And you seem to be missing a few Jedi…” She mused, standing up and folding her arms over her chest. 

“Your dinner yesterday gave us no reason to doubt Beor’s allegiance to the Republic. There was no need for them to stay.” Obi-Wan said confidently, almost convincingly, but you knew it was going to be harder than that.

“You presume us to be that easy?” Kerta descended the stairs so she was on the same level as the two of you.

“Of course not, Minister.” Obi-Wan turned up the charm, and you pursed your lips to fight a smile. “That is why I stayed behind. Whatever Beor needs of the Republic to ensure our relationship remains fruitful for both parties, then I can assure you we will do our best to provide.”

“Do you concur, Lieutenant?” Kerta turned on you suddenly, but you remained composed. You felt her reach out through the force, trying to break past the barriers in your mind, but you remained strong.

“Of course, Minster. We can only hope that our comrades' departure hasn’t given off the wrong impression. I’m sure I speak for the whole of the republic when I say that Beor remains a most treasured ally in this war.” You said steadily despite Kerta’s attempts to sway you with her steely glare. 

Obi-Wan broke his concentration on Kerta for only a second to turn his eyes to you, impressed by your control. You sensed him looking at you, and your eyes flitted to him for a brief moment, quickly facing ahead to conceal any betrayal of emotion. Nevertheless, Kerta noticed it, and she smiled. She turned, nodding at the Duke, who stood and left the room abruptly.

“I see you headed my advice, General,” Kerta mused, and Obi-Wan turned his attention back to her. “Time, in war, is fleeting. I am only sorry that the two of you have less time than you think.”

A small bubble of angry protectiveness flared in Obi-Wan but he pushed it down.

“Whatever do you mean, Minister?” His voice dripped with sarcasm, and Kerta scoffed, shaking her head. She turned back to you, and you placed your hands on your hips, masking it as a relaxed stance when in fact you were moving your hand closer to your lightsaber clipped to your belt.

“Oh come now, Obi-Wan. Let’s not play games any longer.” She loosened the tie of her robe and it fell to the floor, revealing her saber hilt strapped to her side. 

Obi-Wan mirrored her action, shrugging his cape from his shoulders and letting the fabric cascade through the air, pooling at his feet on the floor. All three of you reached for your weapons.

“Fair enough, Kerta.” Obi-Wan’s eyes narrowed, and you didn’t miss the playful glint in his eyes. “Let’s dance instead.”

Blue, green and red light illuminated the hall as you all deployed your lightsabers, and you couldn’t help but grin at Kerta. A flicker of fear crossed her features, and your confidence swelled. She took the first strike, bringing her saber down against your own, and you blocked it effortlessly. The guards surrounding you closed in, and Obi-Wan turned to protect you from them, slicing through their metal armour and weapons with ease.

Kerta’s fighting style was brutal, each movement holding all of her power behind it and bringing her blade down against your own in a collision of red and green light. Despite the brutality and power, however, her fighting style was predictable. She was the master of the movements she had been trained in, but had no flow in her connection to the force. You could see a move coming four strikes before she made it, and it took you considerably less effort to block her attacks than it did for her to make them. 

As you battled the Sith apprentice, Obi-Wan was making quick work of the guards, but there was no denying that there were too many for the two of you to fight alone alongside your duel with Kerta. You followed the force, back pressed to Obi-Wan’s as you spun, you now slicing down the spear of a guard as Obi-Wan blocked the downward strike of Kerta’s blade. He reached out his hand, letting the force flow through him as he pushed her through the air until she collided with the stairs she had been sitting on, lightsaber flying across the room.

She screamed with frustration, trying desperately to clamber to her feet.

“NOW.” Her anger echoed through the hall, and two large doors on either side of the throne opened, revealing lines of droids ready to fight.

“Time to go, darling,” Obi-Wan murmured to you, and you could hear the smirk in his voice. You sliced through the armour of another two guards before using the force to propel your impending attackers away, leaving you a clear path to the exit.

You broke into a run as the droids took their first steps into the room, making it to the door as they fired their first shots. Obi-Wan raised his saber and blocked the red bullets flying your way, before you rounded a corner, running even faster towards the exit.

“Why is it that you always seem to attract Sith women?” You grumble teasingly as you run. Obi-Wan huffed out a laugh, reaching out and tugging you when you almost turned the wrong way.

“Don’t tell me you’re joining the dark side, darling.” He smirked.

“And what makes you assume that I’m attracted to you, Kenobi?” 

“Possibly the fact that you couldn’t keep your hands off me less than twelve hours ago.”

You made it to a courtyard overlooking the jungle, and you scanned the area desperately for something to aid your escape, hearing the steady stomp of droids heading your way. 

“There.” You pointed to a bike-speeder that caught your eye, dashing over before Obi-Wan could process what you were doing.

“Hey, let me drive!” He shouted after you, but you ignored him, placing yourself at the front of the bike, feet up on the pedals and fingers around the handles. 

“Too slow.” You grinned as Obi-Wan jumped on behind you, arms wrapping around your middle immediately. There was a flash of red, blocked by the swift flickering blue of Obi-Wan’s saber, and you saw the droids moving quickly into the courtyard. 

You revved the bike, launching it to the air shakily. Obi-Wan’s grip around your waist tightened instinctively and you heard him suck in a sharp breath. You tried not to laugh.

“Have you driven a bike before?” He muttered in your ear.

“Yes,” you replied unconvincingly.

“In this universe?”

You thought it best not to answer, instead pressing hard on the gas and launching you and Obi-Wan through the air towards the jungle. 

You flew over the lake, water spraying around the speeder as you pushed it forward into the jungle, swerving around trees. You pushed on for what felt like minutes but was really only seconds, your speed and the darkness of night turning the surrounding jungle into a blurry shadowed haze. 

When you felt far enough away from the palace, deep in the untamed forest, you clutched your fingers around the breaks, willing the speeder to slow.

“Oh shit,” you muttered, squeezing the brakes hard again. The bike continued hurtling forwards, never slowing.

“Y/N, stop the speeder!” Obi-Wan shouted desperately into your ear over the whirring engine, arms tightening around your middle. You dodged through trees skillfully, gritting your teeth as you tried the brakes again and again with no luck.

“I’m _trying_.” You whined, shaking your head. Then, ahead, unavoidable, hurtling towards you, a cliff edge. 

“FUCK! JUMP!” You yelled, and Obi-Wan acted instantly, pulling you both off the bike right before it careened off the side of the cliff. 

You both hit the ground with a painful thud, Obi-Wan’s arms still around your waist. At your speed, you rolled, a mess of limbs flailing against gravity. It sent you tumbling through grass and mud, both of you grunting as your bodies collided with hard ground, rocks and each other's bones. 

Finally, the momentum slowed, and Obi-Wan managed to halt your fall with a hand grasping into dirt, caging your body beneath his. You let out one last grunt of pain, throwing your head back against still ground as Obi-Wan caught his breath. When you looked back at him, he was smiling - a wide, eye creasing, toothy smile that made your heart skip.

“I see you never did learn how to park.”

You threw your head back and laughed, and Obi-Wan couldn’t help but lean down, placing a soft kiss on your cheek before rolling onto his back with a groan.

“I’m getting too old for this.” He huffed, and you sat up, grinning down at him.

“Come on, grandpa,” you teased, and Obi-Wan winced at the nickname, “We need to find somewhere to hide out.”

You used your lightsaber as both a guiding light and to cut back some of the twisting plants that sought to block your way. It took you a while, but you eventually found a clearing, lit dimly by one of the moons and home to a cave, burrowed into the side of a mountain. 

“Anakin. Anakin do you copy?” Obi-Wan raised his wrist, dialling Anakin. Eventually, blue pixels stuttered into the image of his Padawan, aboard Padmé’s ship.

“Still alive, Master?” He teased.

“Barely,” he glared your way, “Y/N is still as bad a driver as ever.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault the speeder had no breaks.” You scoffed, turning away to collect sticks from the forest floor. 

Obi-Wan relayed the events of the evening to Anakin, confirming Ahsoka’s sighting of the droid army and reaffirming Kerta’s status as a Sith. Anakin relayed their progress, just coming up on the 501st. He confirmed that Rex and the boys were ready to make their way to Beor, and that he would update the council on the mission. You placed the last pile of sticks on your fire just as Obi-Wan transmitted your coordinates to Anakin, and Anakin in turn gave him a promise of quick rescue. 

“Stay safe, Master.” Anakin’s tone softened, and you made your way over to Obi-Wan, leaning in so his comms camera could pick you up. 

“Don’t worry, Ani,” you grinned, slapping Obi-Wan on the back. “He’s got me.”

Anakin chuckled, shaking his head.

“Yeah well, after that speeder story, I’m not sure that makes me feel any better.” And then the transmission faded into nothingness. 

Obi-Wan let out a long breath, running his hand over his face, before turning to you, a smile stretching over his lips.

“Let’s get this fire going.”

You sat around the fire for a little while in comfortable silence, both of you too drained from the evening's events to make conversation. Occasionally, you would look at each other over the fire, eyes meeting, and neither of you could stop the smile that crept up on you. The flutter in your heart grew each time he looked at you that way, unrestrained emotion softening his features from their usual controlled state, and you prayed he’d never stop looking at you like this.

Eventually, Obi-Wan stood, the fire dwindling, and he used his saber to move around some of the sticks, adding more kindling.

You couldn’t help but fix your eyes on him as he stoked the fire. He looked like a painting, hung up in a gallery in Paris or Rome. The firelight cast shadows across his cheeks and highlighted his hair, fair locks turning a brilliant gold. He looked serene. You’d never seen him this way before. So… at peace. You were hiding away from a droid army, the odds of them finding you weighing heavily in their favour and yet, Obi-Wan had never looked calmer. 

“You’re staring, darling.” Obi-Wan’s tone was teasing but you didn’t shy away from the exposure. 

“It’s hard not to.” You found your way to your feet, walking over to where Obi-Wan stood. He chuckled at your words, turning to face you. You were feeling brave, stepping well beyond what would be a normal distance between two friends, the toes of your boots millimetres away from the toes of his. Obi-Wan held his breath unknowingly and you smiled, reaching your hand up to press it against his face - an attempt to soothe him, prepared to take it away if he felt too tense. 

To your surprise, he leaned into your touch and his left hand reached up to wrap around your wrist, holding it in place. His other hand rested over your cloak on your waist and his eyes shut, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

It was your turn to hold your breath, the intimacy of the moment making your head spin. 

You realised then why he looked so at peace. All his life, Obi-Wan had been surrounded by rules. The rules of the order, the rules of war. He had a Master to follow. A Council to listen to. An army to lead. He had devoted his life in service of others, and here he was, lost in a jungle, unable to do anything but _be_ in this moment. To do whatever it was that he wanted to do. And what he _wanted_ was you. 

“What made you change your mind?” you whispered, and you leaned forward, resting your forehead gently against his. Obi-Wan’s smile widened a little, his hand around your wrist pulling your hand to his lips. He pressed a kiss to your palm, on the soft part of skin where your thumb met your forefinger, and a soothing warmth rippled its way through you.

“My mind has always been very clear in its desires, my love,” Obi-Wan murmured against your hand, and the softness of his voice made you weak at the knees. 

“Alright, smartass,” you breathed, you insult holding no sting because of the effect he had over you, “what made you finally… act on those desires?”

He opened his eyes, and you lost yourself in the crystal blue irises staring longingly at you. Without your conscious knowledge, your other hand moved to his other cheek, never wanting him to move from this position.

“You’re very hard to escape, Lieutenant,” he said, his voice was barely above a whisper. “Even when you’re halfway across the universe, you’re always there. In my mind. I can’t… I can’t let you go-” 

You pressed your lips to his fervently, unable to hold back anymore. Obi-Wan matched your eagerness, pulling you flush against him and moving his hand on your wrist to the back of your head, pressure light but compelling.

“I have formed an unbreakable attachment to you, my love.” He murmured, between kisses. He sounded helpless and yet… so _content_. “I don’t think I could break it if I tried.”

“Then don’t try,” you whispered, arms snaking around his neck as you slanted your mouth over his, deepening the kiss. The noise of the jungle silenced around you, the only sounds the thrumming of your heart in your head and the desperate gasps for breath both you and Obi-Wan took between kisses. His words had turned your thoughts into unintelligible wisps of words, leaving your mind fixated on holding onto this feeling. This _addictive_ feeling of uninhibited devotion.

Obi-Wan seemed to relish in kissing you and when you pulled away for breath or to just look at him, he chased after you. You giggled at his eagerness and suddenly remembered that this was all painfully new to him. Obi-Wan, the man, the Jedi Knight, the _General_ , turned to a desperate teenager by your kiss. 

“Obi-Wan,” you whispered, as he licked his tongue across your lower lip, eyes still closed. You pulled back, placing a hand back on his cheek to keep him from leaning into you. He hummed softly in protest, but fluttered his eyes open, pupils wide and reflecting the flickering fire beside you. 

“-’m sorry, darling,” his voice was heavy and shaky, chest heaving as he caught his breath. He chuckled at his own behaviour, shaking his head to snap himself out of the lust-controlled haze overwhelming his thoughts, and a stray hair fell over his eyes.

“It’s fine, I just…” You reached up, threading the hair through your fingers and tucking it behind his ear, tracing your fingertips across his scalp. “Wanna take it slow. I want you to…”

“I know…” He nodded, and when he leaned in to place a soft peck against your lips, you didn’t hold him back. “I… this is still…” He shook his head, the word _‘wrong’_ pushed its way to the forefront of his mind and he shoved it away, rejecting it before it plagued his thoughts.

“You’ve got a lot to get used to,” you chuckled, running your thumb across his temple, “and… and I need you to be sure of what you want before you-”

A loud crack from deep in the jungle cut him off, and Obi-Wan reflexively pulled away from you, one arm sweeping across your body to push you behind him protectively as his other hand reached for his lightsaber at lightning speed, bathing the two of you in the blue light of its blade.

“Someone’s close,” Obi-Wan murmured. There was a faint rustling in the jungle, a hum of a vehicle, and Obi-Wan retracted his lightsaber. 

You reached out with the force towards the fire, sending the sticks flying apart and extinguishing the flame. Then, you scattered the ashes and wood into the growth surrounding you, hiding any evidence of your camp. Both of you moved toward the cave quickly, treading lightly on the forest floor to avoid making any noise that could beckon your pursuers closer. Obi-Wan’s hand was nestled in yours as he pulled you through the dark cave, the only light the faint glow from the comms unit on his wrist.

Once you couldn’t see the soft glow of Beor’s three moons behind you, you stopped, and you struggled to even make out the shape of Obi-Wan in the darkness of the cave. You reached out with your free hand, resting your palm on his forearm. Carefully, you traced your fingers up his arm, over his shoulders, searching for his face. You found it, closer than you’d been expecting, the familiar prickle of his beard against your palm comforting you.

“We’re not going to be able to light a fire. I don’t know how close they are.” His voice was barely above a whisper, and his hand raised to lay against yours. He used it as a guiding point, running his hand up your arm, before resting his palm against the side of your neck. 

“How long will Skywalker be?” You whispered back, and Obi-Wan flicked his wrist, the faint blue glow of his comms lighting the cave. 

“Anakin, do you copy?” He raised his wrist closer to his mouth. 

“Yes, Master?” Anakin’s modulated voice crackled through the small speaker. Obi-Wan’s arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you close to his side. You reached out to his wrist, turning the volume knob all the way down so Anakin’s voice would be barely audible. 

“Do you have an ETA on your arrival?” Obi-Wan asked.

“Errr…” Anakin paused. “We think we’ll be there at about oh-six-hundred hours.” 

You glanced at your own wrist, your comms informing you it was 01:36am. 

“Right, well…” Obi-Wan sighed, and you heard Anakin’s soft chuckle through the comms. Then, the familiar giggle of his Padawan.

“Oh come on, I’m sure you can find _plenty_ to do to keep yourselves occupied.” Ahsoka teased, and you felt Obi-Wan tense beside you.

“Yeah. Or, Obi-Wan, you could _finally_ get some sleep?” Anakin teased. “We’ll see you in a few hours. Try not to kill him, Bunny.” And then the comms clicked off, the light cutting off and leaving you in darkness again. 

“Anakin’s right,” you murmured, hands fumbling in the darkness to find Obi-Wan’s shoulders, squeezing them gently, “you need to sleep.” You thought back to when you had first seen him, how tired he looked. You wanted to ask him how long it had been since he had slept properly. You wanted to ask him whether he was plagued with nightmares of loss and war. You wanted to ask him if he turned to you in those times just as you turned to him. 

But right now, all you wanted to do was make sure Obi-Wan slept. You pressed gently on his shoulders, stepping forward so Obi-Wan was forced to step back. He didn’t resist, moving willingly in the darkness, trusting you to guide him.

“Hmph.” His back collided with the stone wall of the cave and you fought a smile. Your hands found his face again and you pressed your lips to his once more, softly and carefully.

“Sit,” you murmured, stepping away. Obi-Wan followed your instruction, and you lowered yourself to the floor too, crawling beside him. 

Obi-Wan’s heart quickened as you shuffled closer to him, unable to read the situation for the first time in a while. You sensed his anxiety and sought to ease it, reaching out to place a hand on Obi-Wan’s forearm, scooting across the cool floor so you were seated next to him, thighs brushing against each other.

“Sleep, please.” You smiled, even though he couldn’t see you. The tension left his body in waves, and he relaxed his shoulders, pressing the crown of his head against the wall. His arm snaked its way around your waist and he tugged gently.

“Only if you do too, my love,” he murmured. 

You sighed but moved so you were curled against Obi-Wan’s side, arm stretched across his chest and draped lazily over his shoulder. You rested your head against his chest and closed your eyes, relishing in the warmth of his body. It wasn’t the most comfortable of positions, the floor hard and the lack of any covering leaving you feeling exposed and overdressed. But all that was worth it for the feeling of Obi-Wan’s arms around you.

It was silent for a while, and you focused on the soft rise and fall of Obi-Wan’s chest beneath your head. His hand rubbing small circles on your back. His breath, steady and calm. And then, minutes later, his lips, pressed gently against the top of your head.

“I dream about you often,” he murmured sleepily into your hair. “When the nightmares end, you’re there.”

You smiled and wanted to tell him you felt the same. You wanted to spill your feelings for him, every bottled up emotion from the last two years, but sleep was already taking over your senses, and all you could do was pull yourself closer into him as you drifted off into a night of dream-filled sleep.

* * *

You woke up first, your back in agony as you furrowed your brow at your hunched up position. But then, you felt the weight around your waist, the familiar fabric clutched in your hands, the soothing swell of Obi-Wan’s chest with each steady breath beneath your cheek. 

When you opened your eyes, the cave was significantly lighter than it had been when you had fallen asleep, and, though still shadowed, you could clearly make out Obi-Wan, slumped against the wall of the cave. He looked so peaceful, head lolled to one side, contentment gracing his features and a small smile playing at the edges of his lips. He was holding you tight, not hard against his body, just fixing you to his side so you wouldn’t roll off his lap in your slumber. 

You wanted to let him sleep, the idea of waking him and disturbing such a gentle picture almost blasphemous. However, when you glanced down at your comms on your wrist, the pixels reading 05:43, you knew it wouldn’t be long before Anakin and the reinforcements would be arriving. 

“Obi-Wan,” you whispered, turning his face to look at you with your hands. He stirred under your touch, eyes squeezing shut before they slowly opened halfway, peeking at you from behind hooded lids. You offered him a lopsided smile.

“Morning, handsome.”

He looked confused for a moment, brow furrowing, before he smiled wider, eyes creasing at the corners.

“Well isn’t this a lovely sight to wake up to?” He murmured, leaning down to press a sleepy kiss against your lips. You sighed into his mouth, clasping your hands around his neck. Obi-Wan hummed, his own hand working its way up your back to the nape of your neck, pushing you closer against him. The kiss, coupled with your still sleep-hazed state, made your head spin and everything around you fell away, the warmth and electricity of Obi-Wan’s kiss the only thing you could bring yourself to focus on.

“We have got to stop meeting like this.” Ahsoka’s voice broke your trance, and you pulled violently away from Obi-Wan. She stood, cross armed before you, M2 by her side.

“Master? Bunny?” 

Anakin’s voice echoed through the cave and both yours and Obi-Wan’s eyes opened. You scrambled to stand, you had just managed to stand, putting a respectable distance between the two of you, when Anakin rounded the corner. 

He frowned at his Master, who was flushing a soft pink, eyes full of fear. They looked at each other for a few seconds, Anakin’s eyes narrowing, before he turned to you, cocking his head, trying to analyse the situation. Obi-Wan cleared his throat.

“You’re early.” He muttered, and you bit your tongue to keep yourself from laughing.

“Sorry, Master. Thought you’d appreciate it for once,” Anakin smirked and turned back to him, enjoying his Master’s uncomfortable shifting under his gaze. You rolled your back and cracked your neck, the toll of last night's position causing a little discomfort in your joints. 

“Alright boys,” you composed yourself, walking up to Ahsoka and throwing an arm around her shoulder, “let’s go shish kebab some droids.” 

You patted M2 at your words and he whirred excitedly, followed by;

“fuUUUck.”

Anakin and Obi-Wan stared after you in shock, turning to each other with wide eyes. Obi-Wan furrowed his brow, gesturing towards your potty-mouthed droid.

“Did M2 just say _fuck?_ ”


	5. The Great Gig In The Sky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nearly two years later, another mission to Beor has you questioning your place in the Universe...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ajkhgsdhajkhsj this took me so long to get right
> 
> follow me on tumblr for writing updates! myonly-hope.tumblr.com x

_ **─ 19 ʙʙʏ** _

_ I am not frightened of dying _

_ Any time will do, I don't mind _

_ Why should I be frightened of dying? _

_ There's no reason for it, you've gotta go sometime _

* * *

“If you’re right, Commander, then we have little to worry about,” Windu’s blue projection said nonchalantly and you clenched your fists around the leather of your gloves to keep yourself from screaming at the pixelated form of the High Jedi.

“With all due respect, Master,” you said calmly, albeit through gritted teeth, “although I have no doubt over my squadron’s ability to handle a droid army of such a size, I worry about the wellbeing of the Vaerko.” 

“They have pledged you their allegiance, have they not?” Windu showed no sign of backing down from his position. 

“Yes.”

“And they know of the enemy they face?”

“Yes.” 

“Then this is not up for debate. You will proceed with the men you have.” 

“They aren’t  _ soldiers _ , Master. They are families. Mothers, fathers,  _ children- _ ” 

“And they are willing to fight for their home, Commander. Let them.” 

You let the silence hang, keeping your expression steely as you backed down from your verbal spat. Two weeks ago, you had received intel about a droid army led by Kerta Mayli that was preparing to siege a Vaerko settlement that had become a base for the Republic on Beor. That intel had vastly underestimated the size of the droid army currently making its way to the Ilut tribe. 

“Continue on, you will.” Yoda’s projection piped up finally, “More important battles to fight, there are.” 

You wanted to scream again. More important battles  _ for us. _ More important battles for those that would almost certainly come out of those fights alive. For the Ilut tribe, this was their  _ only  _ battle. 

“Yes, Master Yoda,” you said, voice small and defeated. Over the last year or so, you had learned the painful act of submission to the Order’s instruction. The war had become nasty. Or rather, your perception of it had. It had lasted far too long, cost far too much, and you were beginning to question its purpose. Which side was truly fighting for freedom and which was fighting for control. 

“Excellent work, Padawan,” Yoda nodded, standing. “You are showing great leadership.”

Two years ago that compliment would’ve meant the world to you. Now, you simply nodded and averted your eyes from his hologram. The Jedi projections flickered off one by one, leaving only one remaining. One who had remained notably silent through your argument with Windu. 

“You could’ve stuck up for me,” you whispered, pain laced in your voice. “You know this could cost these people so much.”

“You cannot let your feelings cloud your judgement, darling.” Obi-Wan’s voice was hard, and you couldn’t help but catch the contradiction in his sentence. He was telling you not to let your feelings cloud your judgement whilst calling you  _ darling. _

“It is not my feelings leading my judgement, General, but my compassion leading my actions.” You turned your head to look at your hologram, his expression controlled. 

“You mustn’t do anything reckless, Commander.” He paused, then softened his expression. He stepped closer to the camera, his hologram enlarging so you could see the intimate details of his face you missed so much. “This could be your last mission as a Padawan, Y/N. Please, for your own good.” 

Again, you couldn’t help but think about how two years ago, you would’ve felt overwhelming pride at hearing those words. You, a Jedi Knight, finally serving the Order at your highest potential. Now, the pride that bubbled up inside of you was mixed with something else - doubt.

“Okay, I will follow orders.” You nodded. “But the lives of the Vaerko come before any strategic advantage for the Republic.” 

Obi-Wan couldn’t in good conscience argue with that, so he just nodded. You cut the transmission.

“BeeEep bOoOOP.” M2 let out a series of beeps from by your side.

“I was not harsh, he was harsh.” You frowned down at your droid. M2 stayed silent and eventually, you huffed. “Fine, but he should’ve stuck up for me.”

“bEEEp boOp.” 

“I’m sorry, but if you want to say hi to Obi-Wan, all you have to do is send a transmission yourself,” you muttered, and turned away to gather your things from the ship.

Things had grown tense between you and Obi-Wan and you hated yourself for it. You still loved him with all your heart, and when it was just the two of you, pulling each other away from the universe into one another’s arms, you could almost forget where things were going wrong.

But as hard as you tried, it was difficult to separate Obi-Wan, the man you loved, from the thing he had pledged his life to. It was difficult especially now. Now that your closest friend had left the Order, and you hadn’t been there to help her through it, you found yourself weighed with guilt. Each option you turned to made your stomach churn. 

You could stay in the Order, fighting a war you were no longer sure you believed in, every day your actions turning against what the Force inside of you told you was right. But still have those  _ moments _ . Those moments where, when Obi-Wan’s lips were on yours, and his eyes sparkled with constellations, you were able to forget. And yet, even those moments had a price and that price was that that they ended all too quickly, and that they were kept in the shadows. 

Your other option was to follow in the footsteps of Ahsoka Tano and turn your back on the Order - the only family you knew in this Universe, the people you loved - to sate your conscience. 

Battlefields in war were more than just physical, you had learned. They were so often, and so painfully, mental too. 

Outside, the sun was rising over the Beoran lake and the 41st Legion were preparing for tomorrow’s battle. A small contingency of clones, led by Commander Gree, were waiting for you outside the ship, ready for orders. 

Leading a mission wasn’t new for you. In fact, with Yoda and Luminara so often predisposed in Coruscant on Council business, you had led the 41st in more than a couple of missions in this war. However, it never made you any more comfortable with ordering people around. 

“Commander,” Gree turned to you as you descended the ship's ramp, M2 by your side. The question about back up was poised on his tongue, but from your expression he already had an answer. He nodded solemnly. 

“Very well,” his voice level as ever. He had grown as fond of the Vaerko as you, fascinated by their culture, and it had been his idea to ask for another fleet in case an evacuation was required. Now, you were both left disappointed.

“Yes. Well…” You approached the table the men were gathered around, a projected map of the jungle and your path to the Ilut tribe sat atop of it. “The jungle is thick and noisy, so hopefully that should disguise our movements.” You used your hands to zoom in on an area of the map, a concrete structure enlarging. “This is a Beoran transmit station. We have a signal blocker, but I need you boys to stay behind me until I have deployed it, then we should have a clean path to the settlement.” You turned to Squadron leader Draa. “Now this signal blocker will also block our contact with you. Whilst we go ahead tonight, you will ready the rest of the 41st to arrive at our location at 0600.” Draa nodded in response, turning away to relay the finalities of the plan to the rest of the legion. 

“Sounds good, Commander,” Gree nodded, then turned to his men. “Alright boys, gather the last of your things, we head out in five.” 

The group of clones dispersed on command, and you were left with Gree. You relaxed a little, retiring your commanding role for a moment in the presence of a friend. Both of you had taken a liking to understanding alien cultures, and on your many missions with Yoda and the 41st, you had grown to rely on him. 

“I want no civilian casualties and for that to happen this has to go off without a hitch.” You sighed, and even as you said it you knew it was unrealistic.

“There would be many more casualties if we weren’t here, Commander,” Gree said diplomatically, and you smiled his way. You knew it was true. This particular Vaerko settlement had taken control of a valuable Beoran oil rig a few months back and it was just a matter of time before the droid army was sent to recapture it. 

“We will do our best to protect them, Commander, you have my word.” Gree reassured you, and nodded at him in thanks. 

“Yes, well… still, if all goes to plan, we should be well prepared to keep them safe.”

“And if all doesn’t go to plan?” Gree pressed, always eager to have a back up plan.

“Oh, don’t go losing hope on me now, Commander.” You smiled, standing up straighter,.

The boys were slowly filtering back to you, gear prepared, and you quickly grabbed your own rucksack, double checking that your lightsaber was strapped to your belt along with the signal blocker. 

“Ready, boys?” You grinned, and received a chorus of nods and grunts in confirmation.

When you had first ventured into the depths of Beor’s wild jungle, you had been brutal - you and Obi-Wan slicing through plants and ground with your sabers as though it were nothing. Now, having grown attached to this planet - its hidden beauty and its rich history - you were much more careful in your navigation of the wilderness. Instead of slicing everything in your path, you carefully found a way around it, or used the force to move the plants aside rather than severing them where they stood.

“I overheard General Luminara saying  _ you _ could be promoted to General soon.” Gree commented, as you maneuvered a felled tree with the force. The news didn’t come as a surprise to you. If Obi-Wan was right about this being your last mission as a Padawan, then it was only right that a Knight be promoted to General. Much like the news of your potential advancement in the Jedi Order, the potential progression in military ranks stirred up mixed emotions in you. Overwhelmingly, the thought;

_ Will war be the rest of my life, now?  _

“That eager to get rid of me, Commander Gree,” you shot him a smirk, disguising your turbulent emotions with playful banter. He grinned back, and if he sensed you using humour as a mask, he didn’t call you out on it.

“Only offering congratulations.” He frowned. “In a… backhanded clone trooper kind of way.”

You let out a short laugh, pushing his shoulder playfully as you gestured for the men behind you to follow on, your path now cleared. You focused your eyes on the small map projected from a device in your hand, the red dot of the transmit station growing closer and closer. 

You and your unit spent another twenty minutes trekking through the difficult terrain in peaceful but wary silence, the night slowly creeping up on you. M2 trundled along beside you, beeping complaints about the rough terrain occasionally, which you ignored. 

“Commander, do you copy?” It was Obi-Wan’s voice, crackling through your comms system and you frowned, raising it to your lips as you sped up your pace to put yourself a few metres in front of Gree. He made no attempt to keep up with you. You had never questioned what he knew of your relationship with the General. 

“Yes, General,” you replied, keeping your voice quiet.

“You’re coming up on the transmit station,” he stated, and you rolled your eyes.

“I know that, Obi-Wan,” you muttered, then paused, brow furrowing. “Are you tracking me?”

There was silence at the other end, and you used the force to untwist some vines from a tree and move them aside. 

“Yes.” His voice was soft, and any anger you still held from the meeting dissipated in an instant. 

“I’m going to be fine, General.” You raised the comms closer to your lips, almost as though it would bring him closer to you. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

“I know I don’t... It doesn’t mean I can stop myself when I do, darling.” 

You let the silence hang, the mere knowledge that he was the other end of the comms system comforting enough as you made your way through the jungle. You pushed aside some more vines and then spotted it - the concrete structure that was the transmit station.

“Please stay safe, Y/N,” Obi-Wan’s soft voice made you purse your lips, tears forming in the corners of your eyes.  _ How could you ever think of leaving this? _

“I… I…” He stuttered out, but as usual, he was unable to say the words that pleaded to leave his lips. You waited a moment, as you always did, hoping that this time would be different. It wasn’t.

“I know, Obi-Wan.”

_ It was enough _ , you told yourself.  _ It had to be enough.  _

The silence lingered, and you were unsure what to say next but didn’t want to end the conversation there. It was tense, heavy, and would weigh on your mind until you could speak to him again, which after deploying the signal blocker, you were unsure as to when that would be.

“beEEp beep.” M2 was the one to finally break the silence, and you rolled your eyes, kicking your droid lightly with the toe of your boot.

“M2 says hi. He’s mad I didn’t let him talk to you earlier.” You grinned, and your heart swelled when you heard the familiar chuckle from the other end of the line. You could picture Obi-Wan, eyes squinting and cheeks rounding with laughter. It was the image you needed to leave on.

“Good luck, Commander.” Obi-Wan’s voice was more cheerful as he hung up, and you smiled. 

“Thanks M2,” you murmured, resting your hand on the top of your droid affectionately. He let out a small string of wordless beeps in response.

“Commander?” Gree interrupted your moment finally, and you turned to him. He stepped forward, nodding towards the transmit station. “You ready?”

You unclipped the device from your belt, taking a deep breath before turning back ahead.

“Ready.”

* * *

Ro'tala was the leader of the Ilut, and you had gotten to know them well on your three previous missions to Beor. Right after your first mission, and the first battle of Beor, the Republic had lost their strategic base on the planet, it falling into the hands of the Separatists and a base of sorts for Kerta Mayli. Since then, various reconnaissance missions had been conducted and eventually, negotiations with the few remaining Vaerko settlements began. In particular, the Ilut settlement, who were eager to restore Beor’s control to the natives. 

Ro’tala was also a friend. A dear one. One you treasured perhaps more than any other, because they were not tied to the Order, nor the republic, and often in the brief moments you had away from the 41st and the mission at hand, you were able to be candid with them in ways you were never able to be with anyone else. Not with your colleague Gree, your Master Yoda, your friends Anakin and Ahsoka. Not even with Obi-Wan.

They were waiting for you at the edge of the jungle, dressed in the traditional fabrics of their tribe and their position as leader, flanked by warriors. 

“You took your sweet time, Commander.” Ro’tala raised an eyebrow at you and you smirked, crossing the distance between you to pull them into a hug. 

“How have you been?” You pulled back, squeezing their shoulder. 

“As well as can be expected.” They nodded, then cocked their head.

“And you?” 

You gave Ro’tala a tight lipped smile, offering them a look that promised a conversation later. 

“As well as can be expected.” You repeated, and your friend nodded.

“Well, it’s getting dark and I’m sure you and your unit are hungry.” Ro’tala nodded at Gree, who offered the Ilut leader a short bow of respect. “Come, we have prepared a feast.”

If you had thought Beor was beautiful when you had first visited years ago, the true beauty of the jungelous planet was truly revealed to you once you got to know the Vaerko. The small pockets of existence, away from the brutality of the Beoran regime, was where this planet came to life. 

The Ilut settlement sat on the edge of a waterfall, in a wetland just outside of the jungle. Below, at the bottom of the waterfall, was one of Beor’s largest lakes, where the oil rig that the Ilut had captured sat and where half of Ilut’s warriors were waiting, ready to defend it. Ilut was neither the largest nor the smallest Vaerko settlement you had visited over the years, but it was the one in which you held the most friendships. 

Over the evening, you caught up with those you knew well - Na'sara the seamstress who had gifted you your first Vaerko ceremonial gown, Ad'men the slightly grumpy, but ultimately warmhearted warrior who had saved your skin against a droid a few months ago, Zhar'seca the child you had rescued from a hostage situation about a year ago and would not rest until you told him a new story.

As you gathered around the large fire, spooning barbequed meat and vegetables into your mouth as your men eased into the welcoming embrace of Ro’tala’s people, you too let yourself finally relax. Your shoulders dropped, your thoughts settled somewhat, and you smiled as the sun set in that familiar pink and orange hue you had grown to love. 

“beEEp.” M2 interrupted the tranquility and you turned to glare at the droid.

“You know we can’t contact anyone, the signal is out.”

“BeeeEP BooP.” Your droid paused, and then, almost as a punctuation to his point. “FuUUcK.”

“Y’know, ever since that droid mission you took with R2 you’ve gotten really cocky.” You shook your head, turning your gaze back to the sunset. Your thoughts flooded with memories of your first Beoran sunset. Your second dance with Obi-Wan. Your first kiss.

“Hey, M2. Play Track 4 for me, hmm?”

M2 beeped beside you, playing the music that recently you had requested less and less of. You spooned some food into your mouth, tapping your foot to the music.

“I still don’t understand how you listen to this crap.” Ro’tala’s familiar teasing voice came from behind you and you turned, mouth full of food, and grinned. They scoffed, shaking their head, and sat beside you. 

“Hey, it’s better than nothing. The Jedi Order aren’t very big on music.” You nudged your friend, and they laughed, shaking their head. 

“What are they big on?”

You didn’t answer, and Ro’tala didn’t miss the way your eyes darted down to your mess tin, pushing the food around with your spoon.

“How’s Obi-Wan?” Ro’tala asked, and you sighed, squeezing your eyes shut.

“It’s been… difficult.” 

“The war or the…” Ro’tala wasn’t sure whether they should even call it a relationship, but hoped you knew what they meant.

“Both.”

“I’m sure that one isn’t helping the other… and vice versa.” 

You scoffed, shaking your head, and you fell into silence again. Slowly, Ro’tala snaked an arm over your shoulder in a comforting gesture and you relaxed into them. There was so little affection in the order, so little physical contact, that when you came here, and Ro’tala comforted you in ways you had forgotten existed, you appreciated it all the more. 

“I’m sure it’s going to be over soon. The Separatist’s are losing their hold. The Republic is getting stronger.” Ro’tala reassured you, but somehow their words did nothing to ease your troubles and they sensed that. 

“You were married once before, yes?” Ro’tala’s voice softened, and you turned to meet their eyes again. You couldn’t find your voice, so you merely nodded in response.

“And… and did that love feel like this?” 

The words lingered heavily in the air and you had to take a moment to process them. It was like what you had said to Obi-Wan years ago. This was a different life. You were a different person. Joe was no longer your soulmate. But for the first time in a while, you found yourself comparing them.

“With Joe it was… easy… but it wasn’t…” You frowned. “Easy isn’t always good, I suppose.”

“And Obi-Wan?”

You paused again.

“It’s hard. It feels like everything in the universe is stacked up against us, including his own thoughts…”

Ro’tala quirked an eyebrow at you, and you swallowed the lump in your throat.

“I love Obi-Wan so much it hurts.” You finally admitted, turning your eyes away from your friend and to the food you no longer had the desire to eat. “I know he feels the same. I sense it. But he… he also hates me. I can sense that too.”

“Hate is a strong word, Commander.” It was almost chastising.

“Yes… yes… I think I mean… Obi-Wan fears me. He fears everything when he’s with me. Himself, the Order… Fear is not the Jedi way.”

“You can’t blame yourself for that.” Ro’tala squeezed your shoulder and you closed your eyes. 

“No… but it doesn’t make loving him any easier.” 

Ro’tala didn’t respond, unsure how to reassure you any further. 

“I think… I think I ought to rest.” You nodded, tapping M2 on the head so the music stopped playing. You regained your composure, fixing a smile to your face and standing from your seat. “We have a big day ahead of us, tomorrow.”

Ro’tala wasn’t fooled by your facade, but they knew you well enough now to leave you alone with your thoughts. So, instead, they nodded, standing too and patting your shoulder affectionately.

“Sleep well, Commander.”

* * *

As usual, it took you hours to get to sleep. Outside of your tent, the feast continued for another hour after you retired, until, under your instruction as you had left the gathering, Gree commanded your unit to turn in. Then, there was only the faint chatter of the Vaerko who lingered around the fire, and eventually, nothing but the faint background noise of the jungle surrounding you, and the steady whooshing of the waterfall nearby.

You tried to meditate, but your mind was too active, and not being able to meditate only lead to frustration, so for hours on end, you lay awake, doing nothing, only pleading for sleep to come.

When sleep did come, it was not peaceful. It never was when you knew you couldn’t find Obi-Wan’s chambers on the Vigilance or on Coruscant and let him take you into his arms, the mere presence of him washing away your nightmares.

That night, you struggled through vague nightmarish memories - images of your various battles over the years - your loses, your close calls - intermingled with your deepest fears - losing your friends, losing your family, losing Obi-Wan. Eventually, the slideshow of pain stopped, leaving you with darkness for a little while, until you felt something sinister creeping up on you. The jungle, bathed in darkness besides the moons’ light, faint rustling and crunching of foliage. And then, the smell of fire, the taste of rust, and  _ red. _

You shot up in bed and reached out with your lightsaber, the hilt flying to your hand and illuminating immediately. R2M2 powered on and began beeping warnings frantically, matching your own chaotic thoughts in desperation.

They were here. They had come early. _Kerta_ was here.

You launched yourself from your bed, from your tent, and into the cool air. It was quiet, still, but you knew what you had just seen in your sleep was not a concoction of your imagination, but a vision of what was coming. You could sense it in the force, darkness approaching quickly. They had arrived before your legion. You were about to be outnumbered. You had failed.

“Commander Gree,” you shouted, launching into your Commander role. Lights flickered on behind the canvas of your unit’s tents, and heads stuck out to see what the commotion was. Eventually, Gree climbed out of a tent, pulling a shirt over his head. You met his eyes before his own flitted down to your lightsaber, drawn and illuminating the clearing with a vibrant green light. 

“They’re coming.” 

Gree nodded, and neither of you could conceal the fear and disappointment that both of you felt knowing this was going to be a much more difficult fight than you had expected.

“ALL CLONES. UP AND READY.” Gree shouted, turning away from you as you raced towards Ro’tala’s hut. 

“Ro’tala!” You called, stepping into the large room that made up most of the Ilut leader’s hut. Ro’tala appeared, wrapping their head in fabric, dazed from sleep. They met your eyes, noticed your lightsaber, and their shoulders dropped. Your gaze softened apologetically, and you raised your palm to your chest.

“I’m so sorry.” 

  * .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.



Ro’tala had a back up plan, and with the help of a number of clones, the most vulnerable were scurried away into the jungle to a safe hideaway. You, Gree and Ro’tala rallied the significantly underwhelming numbers of clone troopers and Ilut warriors awake and ready for battle. You looked around apologetically at everyone, desperate for them to know that this was not how you wanted this fight to go but you would fight it anyway. 

“Commander, please,” Ro’tala halted you as you made another apologetic gesture to a nervous looking warrior. The Ilut leader rested a hand on your shoulder, meeting you eyes. “We were prepared to fight this fight without your help.”

You nodded, turning back ahead from your position on the front lines, staring into the shadows of the jungle from which you knew Kerta and her army to be. 

Slowly, a thudding noise creeped up in volume, and you sensed it was the army felling the jungle to make its way to you. The trees swayed violently, and eventually, you could see them thinning out.

“Ready, commander?” You turned to Gree as you unsheathed your lightsaber, bathing the two of you in a green glow. Gree nodded, and signalled to his men to prepare. Blasters and swords raised in the air, prepared.

You closed your eyes, tuning yourself into the force. You felt Kerta, coming closer and closer, the darkness growing and growing, until, when you opened your eyes, she was stood before you, over thirty metres away, but there. Stood at the head of a droid army, saber bathing her soldiers in harsh red light. 

**_Hello, Old Friend._ ** Her voice echoed in your mind, and you clenched your fist around your saber. 

“Alright then, boys.” You smirked, cracking your neck. “Time to go to work.”

You were lost in a sea of red lasers, the droids attacking almost immediately. You deflected each shot with a swift and elegant flick of your lightsaber as you ran full force towards Kerta who was running with equal speed in your direction. 

Gree and the clone troopers, and Ro’tala and their warriors charged forward too, and you tried to ignore the fleeting grunts of pain of those falling victim to a shot from the droids ahead of you. Instead, you focused on what you could do - protecting these men from the power of the Sith before you. 

When you and Kerta met, it was almost as it had been that first time you had fought. Kerta attacked first, raising her lightsaber and bringing it down with a crushing force. Only, it was predictable, and you swiftly blocked it, grunting at the effort to deflect her strength. She smirked down at you, and you took in the face of the enemy you had faced numerous times over the years. She was thinner, gaunt, and her eyes seemed darker as she had ventured further down her dark path.

But she too noticed a difference in you - the uncertainty in your force.

She spun, attacking again, and you deflected with relative ease. You continued this way, dancing around Kerta’s strikes whilst also deflecting the myriad of laser shots directed your way. You made your first attack with a striking movement, almost catching her off guard.

“Your skills have improved greatly since we last met, Jedi,” she spat, forcing your lightsaber away with her own and pushing you a few feet away from her. You raised your lightsaber again, mirroring her movement as she circled you carefully. You deflected a laser, and then cocked your head.

“As have yours… although… still predictable.”

She launched forward, and as if to prove your point, you raised your saber to meet hers with one hand, using the force to propel her away from you. It sent her far enough away that she landed in the shallow waters of the river leading to the waterfall, momentarily disarming her and leaving her stunned.

With her disposed of for the moment, you turned to the main battle, cutting some droids down swiftly until you felt through the force that Kerta had regained some sense of control, lightsaber in hand. You leapt forward, using your strength to propel you further than a normal jump would take you, landing before her in the shallow water with a splash.

“You feel different, Jedi,” she sneered, now on her feet and lightsaber drawn. You narrowed your eyes at her, adjusting your footing, preparing your next move.

“You’re not going to trick me, Kerta.” 

“I’m not trying to.” She raised her lightsaber and made another few swift attacks, each blocked by you as you danced through the shallow waters, lit with the glow of the red and green blades. 

“You are doubting your allegiance.” She mused.

You made an attack, almost catching her arm but she moved in the nick of time. 

“It’s only natural.” Kerta sensed your anger, and you tried your hardest not to let it get the best of you. “You could have so much more power.”

You attacked again, but it was predictable, just as Kerta was, and suddenly the Sith dueller was the one effortlessly deflecting strikes.

“You could be so much _ more. _ ” She swung, and you managed to block it, but the power behind it had you stumbling backwards, heel connecting with a rock beneath the water and sending you tumbling into the water. 

“I would  _ never _ join the dark side.” You growled, and it was a certain statement. No matter how much you doubted the ways of the Jedi, you would never become a Sith. 

“No, no…” She brought another strike down, and you blocked it, but your position in the water left you weak to stop her from pressing the sabers down, dangerously close to your neck. With your defences down, all of your effort put into pushing back against her red blade, you felt her push into your mind. Just as quickly as she was there, you pushed her out, grunting with pain as you exerted so much of your energy into the force.

“Hmmm.” Her eyes glinted as she smirked down at you, scarred face illuminated in bright red and faint green. She tutted down at you, shaking her head. “Attachments are forbidden, Y/N.”

She put more pressure down and you screamed, the heat on your neck almost unbearable. You mustered all your strength and with your free hand, you raised it to her chest, pushing the force through your hand. It worked, and she was forced off you, now laid in the water right on the edge of the waterfall. 

You ran to her, lightsaber raised and ready to attack. Kerta leapt to her feet, blocking your strike and dancing around you. You battled swiftly, each attack coming down with a crashing buzz against her saber.

“He can never love you like you love him.” She screamed over the rushing sound of the waterfall beside you, and the harsh buzz of your sabers. You faltered for a moment, her words striking you down harder than any slice of her weapon. 

She took advantage of it and drove her lightsaber forward, too fast for you to deflect it. You felt a searing pain in your side, looking down to see the red blade of her weapon driven through the skin just above your hip. 

She retracted the blade, plummeting the two of you into darkness, and you fell to your knees, whimpering through gritted teeth.

“Your love makes you weak.” She spat, sneering, and you fought the tears forming at your side as you drove your strength in the force to healing the wound and lessening the pain. You could barely see her in front of you, vision blurring. But you thought to the battle at hand, how you couldn’t lose - not for yourself or for your selfish need to be reunited with Obi-Wan, but for the good of this planet and its people. It was not just your love for Obi-Wan that was turning you against the Jedi, but the love for so many people across the galaxy and your fierce desire to protect them.

“You’re-” You cut yourself off with a grunt, but fought yourself up to look at her. “You’re wrong. It’s what makes me stronger.” 

You pressed all of your power behind your hand and pushed, sending Kerta flying backwards. You saw the faint shape of her topple over the edge of the waterfall, the red of her lightsaber fading into blackness as she descended downwards. You collapsed forwards, gasping for air and as you heard Kerta’s scream muffle, your own senses shut down, the pain in your side too much to keep you awake a second longer. 

  * .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.



When your mind drifted back into consciousness, you could immediately sense you weren’t on Beor. The air was thin, dry and it was cold. The distinct feeling of space. Of filtered air and manufactured temperature.

Your eyes struggled to open, heavy and desperate for rest, but you managed to pry them apart and were greeted by the smooth white metal of a star destroyer medical bay. Your brain was a fog, you could determine the facts of what was around you - the coolness of the air meant you were in space, the specific metal of the ceiling meant you were on a star destroyer, the fact that you were looking up at said ceiling meant you were injured. But you struggled to reach deeper into your mind and find the reason. Until…

A splitting pain in your side spasmed through you and you grunted through gritted teeth, eyes squeezing shut. It all came back to you - the attack, Ro’Tala, Kerta, Gree. Battle and pain crossed before your closed lids and you winced. There was no ending, only uncertainty. Only the beginning and middle of a battle and then darkness. No closure. No-

“Darling,” a soothing voice interrupted and you felt the softness of a familiar hand brush against your cheek. When you opened your eyes again, it wasn’t the harsh white of a medical bay ceiling above you, but the fond eyes of Obi-Wan, creased into a worried frown. 

“Is it… How many?” You frantically tried to find the words, and Obi-Wan turned his hand to press his palm to your cheek. He rubbed his thumb across your cheekbone soothingly, shushing you gently in an attempt to calm your anxiety.

“It’s okay. It’s okay. The Ilut are safe. We drove the droids out of the settlement.” He spoke like he was soothing a baby, and suddenly you couldn’t hang on any longer to what little composure you had maintained. Your hands flew to his arm, wrapping your fingers around his wrist, desperate to keep him close, and then you cried. Months of build up finally released, soft broken sobs escaping from your chest. Obi-Wan looked down at you desperately, leaning closer. He sat on your bed, other hand cupping your other cheek and brought his face inches from yours. 

“Y/N, my love, please.” He was begging, the heartache too much to bear. “Everything's okay. You were… you were right. You needed more men. We should’ve… I’m so sorry… I should’ve…”

He leant down even closer, pressing his forehead against yours. Your sobs were less violent, reduced to pained whimpers and sniffles. You felt pathetic, reduced to weakness and unrestricted emotions - two things so despised by the Order you followed. 

“I’m sorry.” You shook your head, willing your tears to stop. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t ever apologise to me for crying, darling,” Obi-Wan murmured, closing his eyes. “You did good, Commander. You saved so many lives. You defeated Kerta.” 

“We lost, though, didn’t we?” You murmured. “We didn’t gain any ground. We haven’t resecured Beor for the-”

“Sometimes winning is just surviving. And you helped so many people survive.” 

He let you calm yourself, waiting until he felt your breath level out and then opened his eyes. He found you looking up at him, eyes soft. Without another moment's hesitation, he lowered his lips to yours, pressing them gently and lovingly together. You relaxed even more, snaking your hands to the back of his head, threading your fingers through his hair and holding him there.

“You did good, Commander,” Obi-Wan repeated, whispered into your mouth, and you finally let yourself smile a little. Your anxiety hadn’t gone completely, and the recesses of your mind were still spiralling, but right now, here with Obi-Wan, you could relax.

“Ro’Tala?” You murmured.

“Safe.” Obi-Wan grinned down at you, and pulled back to a seated position, leaving one of his hands on your cheek. You returned one of your hands to his wrist, running gentle circles around his pulsepoint.

“Gree?” 

You noticed a flicker of something in his eyes, and you were sure if your hand hadn’t been keeping his in place it would’ve dropped from your cheek.

“Fine. Wouldn’t shut up about how great a leader you are.”

You raised an eyebrow at his clipped tone.

“Oh well, we all knew that.” You teased, but weren’t met with a smile. Then you remembered something. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were jealous.”

You expected him to smile. You expected him to remember. You expected him to laugh that beloved laugh of his that had the corners of his eyes creased. You expected him to say ‘You know I am’ and kiss you like he had done on that balcony on Beor years ago. 

“I’m not.” He turned away, and your heart broke a little. The coldness filled the room and you took a sharp breath through your nose. There it was - the notably swift end to romance that had become so painfully frequent. 

You closed your eyes and Obi-Wan’s hand dropped to his lap. You moved to sit up, and then were reminded of the reason you were in this bed, the burning pain in your side causing you to squeeze your eyes shut as fire raged through your veins. You wanted to stay silent, stubbornly not wanting to draw Obi-Wan’s attention back to yourself. But you couldn’t.

“Fuck,” you whimpered, clutching at the dressed wound on your stomach. You felt Obi-Wan’s hand on yours and your heart swelled.

“Do you need a medic?” He turned to the IV bag at your side frantically, and you watched the fear spread across his face, the vulnerability you needed from finally peeking its way through. “I don’t know how to-”

“Obi-Wan, please,” you whispered, smoothing your hand up underneath the sleeve of his robe, running your fingers across his skin. “Lie down with me.”

He turned to you, and you saw the conflict in his eyes. You wished you could take it away, and you felt the familiar hatred of everything that made him this way simmer beneath the surface. 

“Just for a minute.”

And then, through the force,  **_please._ **

He caved, sitting back on your bed and swinging his legs up. You curled your arms around his stomach, using the force to suppress the pain that threatened to consume you again. When you lay your head on Obi-Wan’s chest, and felt the soft pressure of his lips pressing a kiss to the top of your head, you could almost trick yourself that it was all okay. 

  * .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.



You awoke as you so often had done in the last two years - to the muffled, pained grunting of Obi-Wan suffering through a nightmare. As you brought yourself out of your slumber, forcing your eyes open, you felt a searing pain in your side as Obi-Wan clutched at you desperately, unaware of his grip on your still fresh wound. 

You focused your force into controlling your pain, gritting your teeth as you gently shook the Jedi thrashing beside you awake.

It took a few tries, but eventually, Obi-Wan’s eyes shot open and a gasp caught in his throat. He let you go, catching his breath, and then turned to you. He searched your eyes for a second, then pulled you close to him only this time mindful of your bandaged side.

“It’s okay,” you murmured into his chest, running your hand over the lapel of his robe, “I’m here. It’s okay.”

You continued muttering words of reassurance as you soothed him, feeling his heartbeat slow to a steady pace.

“Are you okay?” You whispered, looking up at him and meeting his eyes. Obi-Wan nodded stiffly, rubbing his hand up and down your shoulder.

“I’m sorry, did I hurt you?” He looked down at your bandaged side and you smiled, shaking your head. You let the silence fall over you, letting him ground himself further in your touch before you spoke again.

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

He met your eyes again. He was about to say no, but something in your eyes told him to open up… so he did.

“I… I dreamt I lost… everyone. Anakin, Cody, you…” He pursed his lips, then looked down. “Ahsoka.”

It was the first time he had spoken her name to you since you left. Every time you brought it up, needing to know what had happened, he shut you down and refused to talk. You had eventually pieced together the details of what had happened, and since then you had been cold towards those involved. 

You buried your face into Obi-Wan’s robes, wanting to hide your tears from him.

“I should’ve been there,” you murmured into his neck, and Obi-Wan stiffened, then sighed.

“Ahsoka made up her mind. What could you have done? Gone with her?”

Your silence gave Obi-Wan the answer he had been dreading.

“No…” he sat up, shaking his head, and you rested your palm on his back. His muscles were tense beneath your fingers and you remembered a time when merely your touch used to ease that tension. “No, Y/N, you can’t.”

“I… The Order is my family.” You paused, cautious of your next words. “But I’m not sure I’m comfortable with following all of their orders any longer.” 

“Y/N, stop,” Obi-Wan growled, standing from your bed. He shook his head, and you knew this discussion with him was through. You resigned, not wanting to get into it tonight with the pain coursing through your veins and sleep creeping up on you.

“Obi-Wan, I-”

“I have to go.” He turned on his heels, and you tried to get up, but were forced back down by the pain. All you could do was watch him leave the room, staring at the door as he disappeared.

  * .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.



When you landed on Coruscant, Obi-Wan was taken to a Council meeting. After your wounds had been dressed, and painkillers administered, you had been instructed to rest and heal in your chambers, with a medical droid overseeing your progress. Of course, it had taken some basic hacking on the part of M2 to power the droid down and you had escaped the confines of your room, propping yourself up outside Obi-Wan’s chambers instead.

You had wanted to talk more on what you had said earlier. What he had been so unwilling to hear. You valued his opinion, but you knew he would have a more diplomatic answer for you now, without the fear of his nightmares creeping up on him. 

You were sat for hours with your own thoughts, dozing off against his door frame as you waited patiently until finally, steady footsteps roused you from your slumber, and you looked up to see Obi-Wan smiling down at you, an eyebrow raised.

“I went to your chambers. I thought you were told to rest.” 

You struggled to your feet, head down to hide the wince in pain at the effort. 

“I needed to see you, I needed to-”

“They’re making you a Knight.” Obi-Wan reached out, placing a hand on your cheek. Your eyes widened, the words filling you with pride. As you looked into Obi-Wan’s elated eyes, you tried so hard to push down the doubt.

“I… I…” You reached up, wrapping your fingers around his wrist and holding him there. You weren’t sure what to say. To express some form of joy such as his own? Or to disappoint him with the admission of your uncertainty?

Before you could make up your mind, there was a distant sound of footsteps somewhere down the curved corridor, and suddenly Obi-Wan’s hand wrapped around your bicep, the other fumbling with the handle of the door beside you. 

He pulled you into his chambers quickly, shutting the door behind you so fast it almost slammed shut. Then, you were pressed against it, head colliding with the hardwood panel and causing you to hiss in pain. You barely had time to complain before Obi-Wan was kissing you. It was hard, desperate. It didn’t feel like him. It felt like a punishment.

And yet… you couldn’t help but lose yourself in it. It was still his lips against yours. His beard scratching your cheeks. His hands gripping your waist. You decided to match his fervour, nipping at his lips, hands tracing down his back, across his ribs, wrapping around his belt. He growled into your mouth, letting you clumsily unbuckle it, it falling to the floor with a thud. 

His hands found their way beneath your robes, and when his fingers finally touched the bare skin of your hips, you gasped, pushing yourself against him, feeling him-

“No!”

His body was thrown from yours at such a force for a second you thought he’d been pulled off you. It took you a while to realise it was not a person or even the force that had pulled him away. He had  _ thrown _ himself from you. 

His back was turned to you. Only one emotion radiating from him -  _ abhorrence. _

That’s when you realised, as you watched Obi-Wan’s back heave with each heavy breath, that it was always going to be this way. So long as Obi-Wan was loyal to the Order and you allowed yourself to take what you could get - stolen kisses that left you satisfied, and yet feeling so  _ dirty…  _ Obi-Wan would never give in to what you know you both wanted. 

If you were to join the Order, you would both be bound to its rules. Both committed to letting your emotions feel so  _ erroneous. _

It shouldn’t be this way. Love shouldn’t be like this. Love shouldn’t be hidden. Love shouldn’t be wrong. Love shouldn’t  _ hurt _ this much. Love shouldn’t be like this. So long as you stayed, Obi-Wan would continue to be repulsed by the part of him that loved you. So long as you stayed, Obi-Wan would always choose the Jedi Order over you.

“I can’t do this anymore.” You heard your voice crack and your hands flew up, covering your face to muffle the sobs. 

“I know, it’s wrong,” Obi-Wan agreed, “We need to stop.”

“You’re wrong.” You felt anger seeth inside you. You struggled to put words to your emotions. “This place. This Order. It’s wrong.” 

Obi-Wan turned to you, surprise flashing across his features. Darkness swirled between you and you held your breath, willing it away.

“Y/N, control yours-”

“No!” You practically screamed, and then composed yourself, shaking your head. “No…”

“I am not turning to the dark side.” You spoke it to him, but you were in fact directing your words to the darkness clawing at your heart. “But I can’t let you treat me as though I’m some sort of… pariah. Something so… shameful.” You shook your head, tears streaming down your face.

Obi-Wan bit his tongue and tasted blood.

“This thing… this… cult. It can’t dictate this.” You gestured between you. “I won’t let it. I won’t let you make me feel guilty for giving you what you want.”

“You know I can’t-”

“I know you can’t.” You said firmly, standing straight. “I’m not giving you an ultimatum, General.”

Your voice was hard, as though you were discussing war. Maybe you were. The tension that hung in the air sure as hell felt like war to Obi-Wan.

“I’m taking myself out of the equation.” You said simply.

The man inside him told him to beg you not to leave. He couldn’t live without your hands in his. He couldn’t do this without you.

You saw the battle spill out into his expression, lips parted in shock and eyes widened. In one last act of hope, you lingered in the room a moment longer, silently pleading him to listen to his heart. 

“You are heading down a dangerous path, Padawan.” He chose his head. He chose the Jedi Order. The way he used the phrase Padawan, when moments ago he had announced you were to become a Knight, struck you hard. Made you feel  _ inferior _ . His words clenched around your heart, squeezing until it burned.

“Enough with the  _ paths _ .” You clenched your fists. “We aren’t on a  _ path,  _ Obi-Wan. We’re lost. In the middle of fucking nowhere. We’re stuck in a loop. Everyone here is. Endlessly serving, never progressing, always fucking  _ stuck. _ ”

A silence fell over you, the heaviness of your words lingering in the air. The darkness still swirled around you, but you never let it touch you. You had never felt more in control of your light than you did right now.

“You can’t deny that this is… a dark… path.” He struggled to find another word, trying to reason with you, and you scoffed, shaking your head.  _ Stuck. _

“Maybe.” You nodded, turning away from him and opening the door. “But staying on this path will kill me. It’ll kill us all.”

  * .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.



You stood before the council and at that moment, you had never felt calmer. Even when Obi-Wan could not meet your gaze. Even when you knew your Master sat before you could sense a shift in you. Even when the eyes of the leaders of the very institution who had taken you in when you appeared on this very floor were staring you down expectantly. All you could feel was calm, unwavering confidence in your decision. 

“We have brought you before us to announce that it is the Council’s intention to make you a Jedi Knight.” Mace Windu spoke first, and from his tone, you knew he sensed something too. Maybe they had seen this before even you had. Maybe it had all been building to this.

“Your actions on Beor were valiant, brave, selfless. You defeated a Sith in single-handed combat. You were willing to die for the way of the Jedi.” Plo Koon nodded at your side where your robes bulged with the thick bandaging over your wound, healing quickly thanks to your strength in the Force. 

You knew his words were not just to justify this action but were also reminding you of your purpose here. Of what this had all been for. 

But he was wrong in a lot of ways. You were willing to die  _ because  _ of the way of the Jedi - the way you had been trained. The Jedi had taught you to be selfless beyond the average person. To be brave in the face of grave danger. To keep the peace. But you didn’t do it  _ for  _ the way of the Jedi. 

“A Knight of the Jedi Order, you are to become, Padawan.” Yoda narrowed his eyes at you, and you felt him trying to feel around your mind for uncertainty. “A General.”

There was a pause, and you knew they were waiting for your answer. You kept your gaze on your Master, smiling sadly, and removing the last barrier of defence you held in your mind, letting him know that all you felt was  _ certainty _ .

“Thank you, Masters. This truly is a great honour.” You looked around the room, nodding your head at each of the Jedi, present or pixelated. “But I must decline this bestowment.”

Obi-Wan’s jaw clenched, and you saw his shoulders sag. Any hope he had of you changing your mind flitted away and you fought to keep your eyes from lingering on him too long.

“I want to reassure you that this is not a decision I make lightly. You are the only family I have ever known here and I can reassure you that should you need my assistance to win this war, I will be by your side. But I cannot do that as a member of the Jedi Order.” Your words were firm in their conviction and when you turned to Yoda, he was looking down.

“We cannot let you stay if you choose this path, Commander,” Windu’s voice was level, warning, but also held some sense of affection. You smiled at him sadly and shook your head.

“I know.” You reached into your belt and took out a tactical knife, raising it to the braided hair behind your ear. The slicing of hair was deafening in the silent room, and you held out your severed braid out towards Yoda, out of respect.

“I want you to know that I’m doing this not in spite of everything you taught me, but because of it.” You said to him, but Yoda didn’t move to take you braid. You clutched it awkwardly, frowning down at the floor. “I’m… I’m sorry.” 

The braided piece of hair fell from your fingers and drifted to the floor. You turned, and finally with your back turned to him, Obi-Wan looked up and watched you leave. The council was silent, processing the information. 

Obi-Wan centred his emotions, calming his mind, controlling his thoughts, trying, trying, trying-

He couldn’t anymore, and when he stood, all eyes turned to him. 

“I’m going to… She might…” He turned to Yoda, who looked at his fellow Jedi Master with intrigued eyes. After a few seconds, Yoda nodded solemnly, and with five long strides, Obi-Wan followed you out of the room and into the hallway. 

“Y/N!” He called after you. You didn’t stop. You couldn’t bring yourself to. You felt too much momentum, a sense of desperate urgency to be far from this temple. You had almost made it to the elevator, M2 waiting for you there, when a strong hand wrapped around your bicep and you finally stopped in your tracks.

“Obi-Wan, please,” you whispered, desperation laced in your voice. He knew it well. He knew it because it’s how you said his name when you needed him to hold you or kiss you or curl up into your side and take the nightmares away. But now, you were pleading him for the opposite.

“I can’t… I can’t be this,” you gestured vaguely to him, and then around the two of you at the temple. Obi-Wan stepped back, crossing his arms over his chest. You searched his expression for something. For an argument like you used to. You found only confusion.

You sighed, shaking your head. “I came here so long ago and thought… This is where I’m meant to be. I show up, out of the blue, connected to the Force… but I need to… listen to the Force. Maybe it was where I was meant to be four years ago. But I need to find my place in this Universe  _ now _ . And it’s not here.”

Obi-Wan pursed his lips. He wanted to tell you that your place was wherever he was. That his place was wherever you were. His mind was screaming at him - tell her not to go. Tell her you need her to stay. Tell her you need her. Tell her you lo-

His own mind stopped him as it always did, not allowing him to take that train of thought any further.

“I can’t go with you.” He said sternly, and you crossed the space between the two of you. You pressed your palm into his, raising your other to cup your clasped hands. 

“I’m not asking you to go with me, Obi-Wan.” You smiled sadly, and Obi-Wan felt something cool in his palm. “I’m asking you to let me go.”

And just like that, the warmth of your touch was gone and his eyes were no longer staring into your own but at the back of your head, watching as you walked into the elevator.

When you turned back to him, it took all your strength to steel your nerves, the sadness in his eyes almost consuming you.

“I’ll see you around, General.” You smiled, and the doors slid shut. 

Obi-Wan stared at the closed door for three minutes, unable to move. It was only when he could no longer feel your presence in the force, until the distance between the two of you was too great for him to send you a message, that he looked down in his palm, seeing the silver locket he had given you years ago

The message he wanted to send to you swarmed his mind. He cursed himself for not saying it to your face. He cursed himself for knowing he was never going to be able to say it to you again. He cursed the fact that it was now just a thought that he alone had to live with, the words bound to haunt him forever

**_Please, don’t leave me… I love you._ **


	6. Money

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having left the Order, you now must find your place in the Universe.

_ **─ 19 ʙʙʏ** _

_ Money, so they say _

_ Is the root of all evil today _

_ But if you ask for a rise, it's no surprise _

_ That they're giving none away _

* * *

Ahsoka valued so many of the lessons she had learnt whilst being a Jedi. She valued the lessons in patience and meditation. She valued the lessons in negotiation and diplomacy. She even valued the lessons in the history of the Jedi that she had once considered redundant and incredibly boring. But most of all, in this very moment, she valued the lesson of being light on her feet. 

The lock clicked quietly under her expert hand and she removed the hairpin she used for such occasions from the mechanism, smirking proudly. The door pushed open with ease and Ahsoka tiptoed into the garage, flipping her goggles over her eyes and switching them onto nightvision. 

She was feeling smugly confident, laying eyes on the EMP emitter she had been searching for, when she took a careless step, knocking over a wheel cap and causing a loud clattering sound to echo through the garage she had broken into. She froze, then, a thud from a room upstairs, followed by the stumbling steps of the owner of this garage coming to investigate.

“Ahh, crap.” Ahsoka muttered, then moved quickly, dashing over to the table where the part she needed lay with no more focus on sneaking around. She reached the table, fumbling for the part, and had just turned to the exit when the dark room was illuminated in a harsh yellow light. 

Well, her Master never was any good at sneaking around. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” A gruff voice made Ahsoka wince. 

“Err…” Ahsoka turned to look at the Besalisk to whom this garage belonged. “Singing telegram?” She kicked out her leg, raising her hands in a ‘tah dah’ gesture, only forgetting that the EMP emitter was in her grasp. The Besalisk’s eyes widened.

“You no good, dirty thief!” He roared, crossing the room too fast for Ahsoka to react. One of his arms raised to her throat and suddenly she was slammed hard against a wall. She hissed, raising the part above her head out of reach of the garage owner as her other hand went to grasp at the arm around her throat.

“We can do this the hard way,” the Besalisk’s hand tightened around Ahsoka’s neck and she grit her teeth, nails digging into his wrist, “or you can-”

The Besalisk was cut off mid-sentence when a small dart buried itself into his neck. He grunted, raising one of his hands to where the intruding object had penetrated his skin, before his eyes rolled back, his grip around Ahsoka loosened, and he swayed. The thud of him hitting the floor was deafening, the ground shaking with the weight of his body colliding with concrete. 

Ahsoka caught her breath, hands braced on her knees as she rubbed the sore skin of her neck from where the Besalisk had choked her, dropping the emitter to the floor.

“You leave the Order and suddenly you’re Robin Hood?” 

Ahsoka froze, breath hitching in her throat. She turned slowly, heart thudding as she anticipated the person who had just spoken.

You were leant against the doorway of the garage, half-hidden in the shadows, dart gun in your hand. Gone were your Jedi robes, replaced with a khaki green jumpsuit and a heavy Gundark leather jacket with a dark hood pulled up over your head. Your Jedi belt had been switched for a tactical one and your lightsaber hilt was nowhere to be seen. 

A flood of emotions hit Ahsoka. Momentary relief to find her saviour to be an ally, overwhelming happiness to see her old friend and then, fleetingly, apprehension at your purpose here. You noticed it all, not through the force, but in her eyes.

Ahsoka steeled her emotions, hardening her expression.

“I had it under control.”

You smirked, shaking your head. You pushed yourself off from the doorframe, stepping into the garage and closing the door slightly, leaving it ajar but keeping prying eyes from taking too much notice. 

“Hmm and that’s why you were being choked to death by this-” you kicked the Besalisk’s arm with the toe of your boot lightly, “-oaf?” 

“I would’ve escaped. Now he’s going to wake up pissed.” 

“He would’ve woken up pissed anyway when he noticed his EMP emitter missing.” You quirked an eyebrow, wondering how long it would be before Ahsoka’s tough-guy act cracked.

“I could’ve negotiated.” Ahsoka wasn’t backing down, and she crossed her arms as you stepped closer.

“And that’s why you broke in here with your little thief tools,” you crouched, picking up the hairpin Ahsoka hadn’t even realised she had dropped from the floor, “to negotiate?”

Ahsoka snatched the hairpin from your hands, turning away from you. You sighed, slid your dart gun into your belt and then tucked your hands into your jacket pockets.

“Ahsoka…” your voice softened, no longer teasing or playful, but meaningful and caring. Ahsoka froze, pursing her lips. “I… If we could go somewhere to talk…” 

You let the silence hang in the air, allowing Ahsoka time to process and decide.

“You’re not taking me back to the Temple, are you?” She questioned, and you smiled sadly, shaking your head.

“I think they’d be even less happy to see me than they would you.” You reached up, pushing the hood of your jacket from your head so Ahsoka could see. Your hair was pulled back but it was also missing one distinct thing - your braid. Ahsoka could’ve assumed you had been made a Jedi Knight, but she knew in her heart that wasn’t the case. 

You watched as the tension left her body, her arms dropping to her sides. 

“I have a place we can go,” you smiled, “I have lots of Kaf and a warm bed.”

“You’ve been following me.” Ahsoka narrowed her eyes at you, knowing you had seen her seeking shelter in darkened alleyways or broken-into garages for the night. She  _ had _ felt watched lately, dismissing it as the creeping feeling of being in lower levels. Now, she cursed herself for not knowing better.

You didn’t respond, deciding to wait for Ahsoka’s answer instead. Eventually, after a moment's silence, Ahsoka sighed, nodding.

“Okay… Okay. But you better have some of that stuff Anakin got you from Cuipernam.”

“Saved some just for you.” You reached out and squeezed your friend's shoulder, smile widening.

“And who in Maker’s name is Robin Hood?” She grumbled, and you threw your head back and laughed. You stepped over the Besalisk still laid unconscious on the floor and moved to the exit. Ahsoka followed, and you had just got to the door, flipping your hood back over your eyes when you turned to her, a playful glint in your expression.

You nodded at the EMT emitter on the floor of the garage.

“Forgetting something?”

  * .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.



When you had first left the Order, you had no idea where to go. Really, you could choose anywhere in the universe. You thought of all the places you’d been to, the planets you’d visited, and suddenly it was all so overwhelming - finally being able to choose, not restricted by wherever the Order wanted you to be. 

So, you had gone where every other misfit and outcast in this city went - the lower levels. It didn’t take long for you to hear rumours about a reckless and thieving Togruta stealing food and speeder parts, and breaking up criminal dealings as some sort of underworld vigilante. 

_ Ahsoka _ .

You had chosen a more subtle approach, securing yourself a job in a small cantina and renting a one-room apartment from an older Twi'lek you had met on your third day. When you knew Ahsoka was here too, you spent all your free time trying to find her, desperate for her to know she had a friend or, perhaps selfishly, to reassure yourself that  _ you _ still had friends now that you had left so many behind.

The apartment you rented was dark and damp, and one of the panes in the solitary window that let in only the faint glow of neon lights from outside was smashed. It was stuffy because of its small size, and because of the smoke that drifted up from the levels below, seeping through cracks in the walls and floorboards. There was one light for the whole room, a bulb hanging from a wire on the ceiling that, with even the slightest movement from the tenant upstairs, flickered irritatingly. 

The furniture consisted of a bed, barely big enough for one, pushed against the far wall, the mattress merely a piece of thin foam-like material wrapped in sheets, and a small table with two chairs placed beneath the broken window. A sink sat beside the door, the water pressure pitiful and often non-existent whenever there was a shortage or strike. There wasn’t a refrigerator, only a counter fixed to the wall and a stove you had to light with matches. You cooked very rarely on it, running the gas for too long making the air in your apartment unbreathable, but boiling water for kaf was fine.

“Want a tour?” You nudged Ahsoka who was gazing around the depressing apartment you’d just ushered her into. She scoffed, shaking head, taking a seat on one of your chairs. It wobbled under her weight, one of the legs missing a chunk in its base, and you grinned apologetically.

“Living down here almost makes you wanna rejoin the Order, huh?” Ahsoka teased.

“If I have to take one more sanisteam shower, I’ll be back in that council room on my knees begging to come back.” You joked, but both of you knew that neither of you would ever do that… or more importantly, neither of you ever could. 

“bEEEEEEP BooOOOOP, BEEEEEP.” M2’s loud buzzing of excitement echoed from your small bathroom and suddenly the droid rolled out to meet you. He saw Ahsoka, beeped frantic hellos and then, as if a child showing off a new trick, “FuUUUUUcK.”

“I’ve missed you too, buddy.” Ahsoka patted your droid on its head and you rolled your eyes.

“Alright, quiet down you hunk of junk,” You muttered, glaring at M2 who beeped snarkily back at you.

“You keep him in the bathroom?”

“Away from the window. For his own good. Though if someone were to come in and steal him for parts, I’d probably let them at this point.”

M2 beeped angrily again, but you ignored him, turning to your tiny kitchenette. You opened a cabinet above your stove and got out two mugs gifted to you by Anakin years ago, and a kettle Ro’Tala had given you on your third meeting. You filled the kettle and placed it on the stove, fumbling around a drawer for your matches and frowning when you couldn’t find them.

“Here,” Ahsoka stood, producing something from her belt and holding it over the gas. You turned it on and she pressed a button on the tool, sparks of electricity flickering from the metal. The gas lit, and you smiled at her gratefully.

“So…” Ahsoka turned, leaning against the table. “You left the order?”

“Yes.” You said, not turning to look at her just yet, distracting yourself with finding your kaf and the spice Anakin and Obi-Wan had bought you from Cuipernam that you reserved for special occasions.

“And Obi-Wan?”

“You know he’d never.” You squeezed your eyes shut. Thinking about Obi-Wan was hard, and you tried to dwell on your grief of leaving him as little as possible. 

Ahsoka watched you carefully, not missing how you tensed up at the mere mention of his name. Over the last few years, she had watched your relationship blossom in secret - in shared glances and brief touches. In hidden meanings and shadowed hallways. She had also watched it wilt. She had watched the longing turn to desperation. She had watched what was once a beautiful relationship, full of playful wit and subtle compassion, broken down. With so much against you, Ahsoka thought it was no wonder it crumbled, and with it, your faith in the very system that was tearing the two of you apart. 

And yet she knew your reasons for leaving spanned more than just your relationship with Obi-Wan.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there.” Your voice was so quiet, Ahsoka could barely hear it. “I should’ve… someone should’ve…” 

“I know, Y/N,” Ahsoka looked down at her feet, hands gripped around the surface of the table to release some tension. 

“I’m sorry no-one…” You trailed off, and she knew that you were apologising for Obi-Wan and Anakin. 

“They tried. I know they did. I was long gone before all of that though, you know that.” She paused, the steady bubbling of the boiling kettle the only sound in the dingy apartment. You turned to look at her and she smiled sadly. “So were you.” 

You nodded. She was right, over the years, and particularly over the last few, you and Ahsoka had debated the Order and its purpose. You had debated what it meant to be a Jedi. It was only a matter of time before the two of you left it behind. 

“He was the only reason I stayed,” you admitted finally. Ahsoka watched you cautiously. “I didn’t feel I belonged for a while. Yoda sensed it too, I know. He sent me on so many missions alone. Distancing me. Testing my allegiances. And then you left and I thought,  _ I should’ve gone with her _ . He became the only reason I was there and when… it just wasn’t a good enough reason anymore…” 

You trailed off just as the kettle’s whistle increased in volume. You switched off the gas and turned your back on Ahsoka, not wanting her to see the tears that threatened to fall. The silence settled over the two of you as you stared at the two mugs in front of you. Eventually, you sighed, scooping spoonfuls of instant kaf into the mugs, sprinkling the Cuipernam spice into the hot liquid. 

“How long have you been gone?” Ahsoka murmured.

“About a month.”

“And that’s the last time you saw…”

“Obi-Wan, yes.” You thought back to the day you’d left, Obi-Wan’s face as the elevator doors closed, so much finally declared and yet so much more left unsaid. “I.. I saw Anakin a few days after.”

“Oh?” Ahsoka was trying to sound nonchalant, but you knew she cared more about her old Master’s wellbeing than she was letting on.

“Yes. I went to visit Padmé. He was there.” You turned, handing Ahsoka a mug. You both sat either end of your table, and when you met her eyes, she was looking at you expectantly. You continued, only you turned your gaze to the dark liquid in your cup, unable to look at her.

“He was angry. I… I hurt him in leaving. In not saying goodbye. And he…” You pursed your lips, remembering the moment well. You and Padmé had been sat discussing your departure on her veranda solemnly, on what it meant for your relationship with Obi-Wan, when Anakin arrived. You had watched so many emotions cross his face, confusion, relief and then,  _ anger. _

“He said I hurt Obi-Wan…” You trailed off.

_ He loved you _ , Anakin’s words from that moment echoed in your head, the pain in his voice.

_ Maybe _ , you had said,  _ but he never said it _ . 

“Anakin knew?” Ahsoka was shocked. Over the span of your relationship with Obi-Wan, even you had thought that Anakin hadn’t known. There had been moments where you’d slipped, and perhaps the notion that you and Obi-Wan were more than friends could’ve been inferred. But Obi-Wan was always so cautious around his Padawan, fearing that admitting his own attachment would derail everything he had taught Anakin to let go of. But when you had stared into the young Jedi’s eyes that night on Padmé’s veranda, you had no doubt that he had almost certainly always known. Maybe Padmé had told him, maybe Obi-Wan. Maybe he was just much more observant than you gave him credit for.

“I told him that I love Obi-Wan, and always will, but that leaving was the best thing for both of us.” You murmured, looking up from your mug. Ahsoka was watching you carefully as she sipped her kaf. 

“And was it?” She pressed. 

“I’m not sure.” You answered her honestly. “I’m not sure I know what’s best for anyone anymore.” 

Silence settled over your apartment again as you and Ahsoka enjoyed your sweet-spiced beverages in peace. You knew she understood most of what you were saying and even the parts she couldn’t understand (not through lack of compassion but through lack of experience) she held no judgement over. You couldn’t help but feel so selfishly relieved to have someone to talk to about this.

“He told me to say hello. I told him I would look for you. He… he wanted to say he was sorry.” You reached over the table, taking her hand in yours and squeezing it gently. Ahsoka knew the gesture of compassion was not just from you - it held the compassion of her old Master too. She smiled sadly.

“So, what are you planning on doing from now on?” Ahsoka tried to lighten the mood, leaning back in her chair. “No offence, but the lower levels don’t suit you.”

You laughed warmly, shaking your head. Then, you turned back to her, smiling sadly.

“I’m heading out tomorrow. There’s a ship headed for Beor early morning.”

“Ahh…” Ahsoka nodded. It was no secret your attachment to that planet and the friends you had made there. It was only natural that you returned.

“The Republic is sending less and less troops there. It’s only a matter of time before…” You trailed off, not wanting to think on what would happen to Ro’Tala and the others if the Separatist's were finally able to capture the land that belonged to the Vaerko. 

Ahsoka nodded solemnly and tried not to be too disappointed that this night would be the only one the two of you had to catch up.

“And what about you?” You cocked your head at your friend. “Though I love the jumpsuit… you aren’t planning on staying here forever, are you?” 

Ahsoka scoffed. Over the last few months, she hadn’t exactly been sure where her future lay. All she knew was that across the galaxy there were people in need of help, and that included down here.

“I’ll see where the wind takes me I guess.” She shrugged, and you decided not to pressure her to know more. You too had once been seventeen and some things really were universal - the need to know your place in the world (or in this case, universe) was one of them. 

“If you ever need me…” You softened your expression again, sipping your kaf. You couldn’t help but feel protective over the young Togruta. You, alongside Anakin and Obi-Wan, had practically raised her through her teenage years. 

“I know. I’ve got M2 on speed dial.” She smirked at you and you let out a short laugh.

“That reminds me, I wanted to give you something.” You set your kaf mug down on the table and stood, wandering over to your bed where a backpack sat. Ahsoka watched as you rummaged around for a second, before finally finding what you were looking for.

Your old tape player.

You brought it back to the table and lay it in front of Ahsoka.

“I want you to have this.” 

“Y/N, I couldn’t-”

“Hey, M2 has got it all on his hard drive so as long as I don’t lose that chip in his little robot brain then I’m all good.” You pushed the cassette player closer to Ahsoka and smiled. She hesitated, but eventually picked the walkman up, running the headphones wire through her fingers.

“Take good care of it, yeah?” You murmured, watching as Ahsoka removed the tape. She ran her fingertips over the fading message written on the label of the old Pink Floyd tape and you cleared your throat awkwardly, looking away. 

“Anyway… I have to head out in a few hours.” You nodded to your backpack, packed and ready to go. Ahsoka moved to stand and you frowned at her. 

“Hey, I promised you a warm bed.” 

Ahsoka furrowed her brow, shaking her head a little. 

“But-”

“I’ve paid the landlord the next four months rent. So long as you don’t break another windowpane, she’ll be fine with you living here.” You grinned, and Ahsoka felt an overwhelming surge of gratitude. She wanted to express it, to thank you, but she struggled to find the words. So instead, she crossed her arms over her chest and shot you a signature Ahsoka smirk. 

“What happens if you break a windowpane?”

You grinned up at her, finishing the last dregs of your kaf. 

“Let’s just say the last tennant met the maker a little sooner than he anticipated.” 

* * *

You stayed awake through the night. Ahsoka stayed up with you for a little while longer, conversation turned trivial and playful, like when you had once sat up late in your bunks on the  _ Dominator  _ or  _ Vigilance _ . You could almost pretend that nothing had changed.

Eventually, you encouraged Ahsoka to rest on her new bed as you finished up the last preparations for your trip. As she had gotten up from her chair, stretching her limbs after sitting for so long, you stood too and pulled her into a hug.

“You take care of yourself, alright A?” You murmured into her shoulder. She squeezed you tight, fists balling into the leather of your jacket. You heard her sniff and fought to hold back tears of your own.

“You too, Bunny,” she whispered, then pulled away, turning her face away from you as she walked into the refresher. 

At 05:32, you threw your backpack over your shoulder ready to leave. There wasn’t much you were taking with you. Only a change of clothes, your lightsaber, a few tools, water and exo-protein wafers, and the polaroid you kept tucked in a hidden pocket all these years later, no longer the person in that photo and yet still unable to throw it away. You were leaving everything else to Ahsoka. 

It was ironic, really. All those years at the Jedi Temple, warned against possessions and attachments (despite Anakin and Obi-Wan bringing you gifts for “educational purposes”, and your unwillingness to refuse the beautiful gifts bestowed upon you from friends across the universe), and yet it was only when you had left that you were willing to let them go. 

The mugs, the kettle, the spice from Cuipernam. Things you had grown so attached to, left behind, a relic of yet another life you were never meant to lead.

As you left your apartment that you had reluctantly grown so fond of over the last month, you took one last look at Ahsoka sleeping peacefully in her new bed. Selfishly, you wanted to shake her awake. To pull your friend into one last hug before you left for yet another war you weren’t sure you would come back from. But you knew, somehow in your heart, that this wouldn’t be the last time you’d see Ahsoka Tano.

So, with M2 rolling quietly behind you, you left her in her new apartment and stepped into the hallway, shutting the door behind you. 

Your trip to see Padmé hadn’t been solely to say goodbye. You had needed her to find out when the next cargo ship or deployment to Beor would be. When she had told you in a message that there was to be no more deployments to Beor, confirming your fears that the Republic were leaving the Vaerko alone in their fight, your heart had sunk. But merely a few days later, another message arrived informing you that there was a cargo shipment leaving soon. 

It wasn’t all that difficult to sneak onto the ship under the cover of night. You were well prepared to use the force if need be, but it was just as easy to slip past the guards with merely stealth skills alone. You had managed to hide M2 in one of the large boxes being loaded from the docking bay, much to his beeping complaint, and then found your way into the hold of the ship just before it took off. 

The journey to Beor took a little under a day, most of which you spent sleeping, if only to pass the time. The rest was spent almost in complete darkness, hunched between cargo boxes with M2 by your side. You didn’t want M2 to play your music, lest someone on the ship discover you, and you almost regretted giving Ahsoka your walkman, no longer in possession of any headphones. So, instead, you were left with your thoughts, the occasional break when you would reluctantly chew down on a protein wafer to sate your grumbling stomach. 

After hours of trying to stop your wandering mind, fidgeting incessantly, tinkering unnecessarily with M2, you decided the best thing to do would be to meditate until you arrived on Beor. You crossed your legs, grounding yourself in the corrugated metal floor of the cargo ship, gently closing your eyes.

You controlled your breathing, just as Yoda had taught you. You flattened your palms against your thighs, just as Obi-Wan had taught you. You centred your force, focusing on the gentle humming feeling in your gut, just as you had taught yourself. 

Slowly, you drifted into the steady calmness of your meditative state. You let the force gradually flow through you, growing and growing. As usual, there was no purpose to your meditation, if only to find some balance and peace. 

But, the force worked in mysterious ways, and even if all you had expected was this constant feeling of composure, it sometimes had other plans.

As you settled into the steady familiar feeling of the force, it began to feel a little more urgent. It wasn’t often you would get a vision. It had happened on Beor the first time you had visited, and then again before your duel with Kerta, but besides them it had happened only a spattering of times. Often, the visions seemed inconsequential, vague images projected onto the backs of your eyelids and feelings pulsing through your veins. Sometimes, they meant something more. They always felt important.

This one was no different. It built up slowly. Just a vague inkling fizzing beneath the surface. Then, it grew, and you were finally able to distinguish what that feeling was. 

_ Pain. _

So much pain and anguish, growing and growing. You wanted to fight against it, to force your eyes open and return yourself to the present. To the feeling of hard metal beneath your legs and darkness all around you. 

But one thing you could never let go of despite leaving the Order and your Master was your respect for the force. If it wanted to show you something, you would let it.

Eventually, images accompanied the feeling. Blurry reds and oranges, fiery liquid - lava. Ashes floating in the air. Heat, prickling…  _ burning _ . You felt more anguish. More pain. You saw a firing squad, those holding the blasters only black shadows, and those gunned down by their shots blurred shapes collapsing into ash. Smoke and fire swirled around, screams indistinguishable from the roars of a fire burning hard and fast.

**_What have I done?_ **

A garbled voice rang in your ears, filled with suffering and defeat. More fire, hotter and hotter. Burning and burning. Until finally, no matter the will of the force, whether it had more for you to see, you forced your eyes open, unable to take it any longer.

You fell forward, hands grasping at the ground before you, seeking relief in the cold metal, desperate for it to soothe the blistering heat searing through your mind. M2 beeped quietly beside you, binary language you knew but couldn’t sort through your mind to translate. 

You caught your breath, the air feeling sharp in your throat as you struggled to rid your mind of the feeling that had been inflicted upon you. 

“Beep beeep.” M2 rolled closer, and this time you brought yourself to translate his worried binary.

“I’m alright, M2. I’m okay,” you huffed out, sitting back on your heels and flattening your palms against your thighs again. “How close are we to Beor?”

“bOOp Beep BOOP.”

“That’s not so bad…” you murmured, sliding your legs out from beneath you and pressing your back against a cargo box. You could cope for another hour. When you landed, you would use the force to slip pass the crew and finally be able to breathe clean air and feel the heat of Beor’s star on your skin. 

And yet, as you tried to calm your racing heart, even out your breathing and still your shaking hands, you couldn’t get the pain to leave your mind. It lingered, like a thick fog filling your senses. So much pain, so much  _ darkness. _

“M2,” you whispered, blinking back tears. “Could you… the hologram…” 

M2 knew instantly what you were referring to, and in the darkness of the ship’s hold, you heard his projector compartment open, and then slowly, the image you hadn’t been able to bring yourself to look at since you’d left the Order flickered blue in the shadows.

The familiar faces of your closest friends stuttered to life, and a wave of calm washed over you. You stared up at the image, watching Anakin’s face - unscarred and young - stretch into a smile you realised you hadn’t seen on his face in months. Obi-Wan, who you had considered then to be so wise and distinguished, paling in comparison to the man he had become now. You, innocent and so inexperienced with the pain of war, so detached from the actions you were about to take. All of you, forever different from the people in this hologram, and yet…

They were your eyes. Anakin’s baby face. Obi-Wan’s smile. 

It brought you a peace you never expected it to, so afraid of what seeing this scene would do to you since you’d left those in it behind. You let M2 project the hologram for over ten minutes, until the traces of anguish from your vision dissipated into serenity. 

Eventually, you signalled for M2 to turn it off, resting your head against the crate behind you and staring up at the ceiling. 

You could tell when you were approaching Beor. It was a sense you had picked up from your years of space travel. A distinct shift in air pressure. A heavier feeling to your limbs as you got closer to the gravitational pull of a planet. With it, always, a sense of anticipation and excitement. Then, the ship which had once been steady in its movement, shook gently as it approached the ground, the floor beneath you vibrating, the crates and their contents rattling. 

You ushered M2 further into the shadows and closer to the exit as the noise of the ship landing became louder and louder until finally, the winding down of engines, the stillness of the ground. You’d arrived.

Tired from your meditation, and not in the mood to try to be too sneaky, you used your connection to the force to slip past the guards.

“You will let me pass and walk into that jungle over there.” You murmured, waving your hand at the guard that stood before you on the ramp leading to Beor’s surface. She nodded, stepping aside out of your path.

“I will let you pass and walk into that jungle over there.”

You descended the ramp quickly, relishing in the feeling of familiar soil beneath the soles of your shoes, before striding quickly towards the wilderness before you. Once hidden in the shadows of the jungle, you retrieved a datapad from a side pocket in your backpack, preloaded with the coordinates of the Ilut settlement. The red blinking light of your destination sat about a two hour trek away. 

“Ready M2?”

“WeeeEEEee.” M2 whirred, lurching forward ahead of you. You chuckled, following right behind him. 

You traversed the jungle as you had done with Gree and the 41st only a month ago. It was significantly easier now that you didn’t have to think about assisting a squadron through. You leapt over tree trunks and slid through vines, using the force to assist M2 where he needed help rather than moving the forest to your liking. 

Eventually, the jungle began to thin out, and the red dot on your datapad inched closer. You climbed carefully over one last log, lifting M2 through the air to the other side, and then you saw the clearing up ahead, the sun setting in the distance. You smiled at the familiar sunset, striding towards the village you loved so much.

Just as you were about to cross from the jungle to the clearing, two spears crossed your path, and you noticed two Ilut guards blocking your way. You recognised both of them, Ra'bana and Sham'seca who had fought by your side many times. 

“Come on, ladies. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten me already?” You grinned and the two guards lowered their weapons and softened their stances.

“We thought you were dead.” Ra’bana pulled you into a hug and you squeezed her back. 

“You can’t get rid of me that easy,” you grinned, then turned your gaze back to the settlement ahead. It was the first time you’d noticed the damage that had been inflicted from the battle. Huts were burnt to the ground and the soil beneath it looked trampled and worn out. Blaster shot holes littered structures and you couldn’t miss the makeshift graveyard that must have been formed after the battle just a little ways out of the centre of the settlement.

You swallowed back a lump in your throat and smiled sadly at your friend. She smiled sadly back, squeezing your shoulder in her strong hand.

“Ro’tala will be glad to see you.”

* * *

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Ra’bana whispered as you and Ro’tala crept carefully around some vines in the Beoran jungle. 

“They won’t be expecting it this late,” you whispered back, “and if our intel is correct, half the droids have been shipped out already. The war must be getting bad elsewhere.”

Ra’bana nodded as you and Ro’tala lead an army of Ilut warriors through the jungle towards the palace. Over the last few months, thanks to your consistent help, the Ilut settlement and the Vaerko had gained ground on the Separatist droids occupying most of Beor’s landscape. Just last week, you had captured a valuable battleground close to the palace, and now, hidden by the blanket of night, you were launching an attack on the centre of Beor.

You halted the army with a raised fist at the edge of the jungle, when the large structure of the Beoran palace came into view. There were a few droids surrounding the building, but significantly less than you had ever seen before. You turned to Ro’tala and smiled, and they smiled back.

“Alright, old friend.” They nodded, turning back to the palace and raising their sword. “Let’s go.” 

You raised your fist again, pausing for a second and your hand wrapped around your lightsaber hilt. At the same time, you willed your weapon to life and unclenched your fist, causing a loud roaring battle cry to echo around the army of warriors behind you. 

You all launched forward, charging through the clearing and up the small hill to where the droids were sat. They turned to you all immediately, firing shots that were overwhelmingly deflected with shields and blades. When you reached the battle droids, the fight was messy and brutal, metal clashing against metal, electricity fizzing all around you. 

You and Ro’tala remained ahead of the other warriors, making swift work in creating a path through to the gates of the palace, slicing down droids with ease. When you reached the gate, and saw only around forty droids coming out to meet you, Ro’tala shook their head and laughed. 

“You might actually have been right, Y/N.” They raised their sword above their head and you did the same with your saber, smirking proudly.

“And when have I ever been wrong?” 

You worked together to bring down half of the droids in time for the rest of the army to catch up, taking care of the rest as you and Ro’tala ran into the palace, navigating guardless halls towards the throne room. You pushed the doors open using the force, and were greeted with a little over a dozen droids, circled around the Prime Minister and the Duke.

“Ahh… the young Jedi,” the prime minister stood from his chair. “Come to negotiate?”

The droids raised their weapons, and you narrowed your eyes. Above you, a large steel beam caught your eye and you raised your hand, reaching out through the force. Almost effortlessly, you ripped the beam from it’s hinges, sending the metal hurtling down to crush all the droids in one fell swoop. 

“I am no Jedi. And there will be no negotiations.” You strode across the hall with Ro’Tala, leaping over the beam and towards a stunned looking Prime Minister. You grinned, and seized the Minister’s arm in your grasp as Ro’tala did the same with the Duke. “We’re taking control of the palace.”

“You are going to rot in your own dungeons,” Ro’tala snarled at the duke, “your  _ Grace. _ ” 

They tugged the Duke up to stand and he reluctantly abided. You focused on your own captive, clasping a pair of cuffs around his wrists behind his back when you felt something unsettling in the force. The rest of the Vaerko army barrelled through the doors, having defeated the droids outside, but were halted in their tracks when they took in the scene before them.

The Duke lay unconscious on the floor, not Ro’tala’s doing, but the act of the Sith Lord holding a glowing red blade to their throat. Your eyes met the familiar golden irises of the culprit and you raised your lightsaber up in preparation.

“Why won’t you Sith stay  _ dead _ ?” You growled, and Kerta Mayli’s lips twisted into a smile. 

“I thought you’d be happier to see me, Jedi,” then cocked her head. “Where’s your boyfriend?” 

You growled, and launched yourself forward a few steps, only to be stopped in your tracks when Kerta inched her blade closer to your friend’s neck. Ro’tala pleaded with you with their eyes, and your expression softened.

“Let them go, Kerta. This is our fight.” 

Kerta nodded solemnly, but the smile never left her face. “You’re right. I have no use for this  _ Vaerko _ .” And with that she brought her blade across Ro’tala’s neck, letting them fall to the ground lifeless.

You roared, rage and heartache clouding your mind as you careered thoughtlessly towards Kerta. You brought down unskilled brutal strikes down against her, blocked easily and smugly as you forced her around the room with your movements. 

She pushed back through the force, sending you flying across the room towards a wall, back cracking against stone. You whimpered, lightsaber slipping from your grasp and rolling away from you.

“Look at you!” Kerta roared, “So easily reduced. So attached. You’re  _ weak _ .” She spat, and you knew she was right. You glanced over the room towards Ro’tala, lying dead against the stone floor and whimpered again, balling your fists tight. You pushed the darkness away, letting out a slow breath and willing your lightsaber towards you.

“Enough, Kerta,” you stood, grasping your saber with both hands as you let it bathe you in it’s green glow. “This time, I will make sure you’re dead.”

She sneered, launching herself towards you, and you centred yourself again, ridding yourself of the urge to adopt an unfamiliar brutal fighting technique and focus instead on the one you had practically mastered. When Kerta brought her saber down, you danced around it, using defensive strokes of your blade to force her where you wanted her. 

She kept baring her weapon against you in her usual predictable technique, the once smug look on her face diminishing with every block of her attack and the growing determination in your eyes. You forced her into a corridor, away from the hall so the Vaerko could continue their siege, and began making short attacks amongst your defenses, swiping at her legs, her arm, her torso. Each was blocked, but with increasing difficulty, and when you caught her wrist with the edge of your green saber, burning her skin, she screamed with rage and used the force to propel you away from her, out of the halfway and onto the veranda. 

You were only sent a few feet back and remained on your feet, bracing yourself for her next attack. She caught her breath, staring you down, circling you until she too stood outside. Then, you noticed a shift. Her fiery will diminished quickly, replaced with fear, and she turned so fast on her heel and ran that it stunned you.

It took you a second to gather your thoughts, realising what she had done, and you chased after her with a resolved anger at her  _ cowardice _ . You called her name as she sprinted through the grounds of the palace, propelling herself a little ways ahead of you with a forceful leap towards the docking bay of the ships. She launched herself into a vehicle, clambered for it to close its doors and lifted it into the sky. You fumbled in your tactical belt, searching for something, anything. When you found a small comms device, you threw it, launching it into the closing door of the ship as it shut, speeding off into the sky.

“BEEEEEEEP WEOOOooEEE.” M2 barrelled out of the gates of the palace towards you and you sheathed your lightsaber in your belt, glaring at the retreating ship of Kerta Mayli. You looked back at the palace, where the Vaerko were completing their centuries long fight for their planet and considered returning to help them finish. 

“Go,” Ra’bana emerged from the corridor you had just exited, out of breath from running. “Avenge them for us.” She met your eyes and you hesitated for a moment, before finding your resolve, nodding. 

“M2, track commslink 3,” you clambered onto a ship, lifting M2 up and placing him in the droid socket in the wing. You strapped yourself in and closed the roof, launching your own ship into the sky, not looking back at the planet as you chased after Kerta’s ship. 

* * *

The tracker led you all the way to Utapau, what you had thought to be outside of the war. When you arrived, however, you sensed something was wrong. You held back, watching as Kerta’s ship landed on a platform on the 10th floor. You landed your own ship precariously at the very highest level, hidden behind rocks, and clambered out of your seat quickly. You took out a pair of binoculars and crouched down against the ground, getting a good view of where you had seen Kerta land. M2 beeped quietly from the ship, asking you what was happening.

You watched as Kerta climbed out of her ship, grasping at the injury you had inflicted on her arm. Two droids approached her, but in a swift flick of her arm, she sent the flying with the force, clearly angry. They clattered against a wall, weapons spinning across the floor as their circuits shorted and sparked. 

Then, suddenly, she straightened up, all the anger fleeing her form. She bowed shortly, hanging her head in shame, and coming slowly into view from the shadows… Grievous.

“This can’t be good.” You muttered, scrambling to your feet. M2 beeped and whirred anxiously, letting out panicked binary and the occasional distorted ‘fUucK’ for emphasis. You knocked on his metal skull, and shot him an irritated glare, shutting him up.

“Alright, M2. I’m going down there.” You fumbled around your ship for your lightsaber, you rolled up your sleeves over your elbow, cracking your shoulders.

“You wait up here for me, okay?” And with that you clipped your saber to your belt, and slid your legs over the side of the wall. 

In all honesty, you hadn’t thought this plan through. All you had thought was that Kerta was on the 10th floor and you had to get to her. To Grievous. You tried to keep to the shadows, shimmying your way down the jagged rock as swiftly as you could without sacrificing your footing, 

You had made it halfway down without being seen, inching around the circular pit to align yourself with the floor you needed to be on, when you heard a shout from below. Not the 10th floor, but a station nearby. A droid had raised his weapon at you and fired. As swiftly as you could, you unsheathed your lightsaber, hanging onto the wall as best you could. You deflected the one shot, the singular droid that had spotted you falling to the ground. 

The movement to deflect the shot, however, had you fumbling for your grip, your toes slipping from their hold and your fingers loosening. It was too late to do anything, you knew it, and you grunted defeatedly as your grasp on the wall was no more, your body hurtling towards the bottom of the pit fast. 

You cocooned yourself in the force, bracing for impact, but also focusing on the blurring wall ahead of you. You centred yourself, reaching out in your mind and then, without even thinking, you reached your right hand out too, your fingers curling around sharp rock, the force of it tugging at your muscles in your arm.

You channelled the force into preventing injury or pain, the scream you wanted to let out reduced to a reluctant whimper as you clung desperately to the ledge you had hung yourself onto. Pain flitted in and out as you caught your breath, and you hoisted your left arm over the ledge too, easing some of the pressure in your right. Your feet found footholds in the rock and you finally relaxed.

“Need a ride?” 

As much as you wished that voice to be unfamiliar, it was all  _ too  _ familiar. The soft cadence and pronounced Coruscanti accent, laced with that gravelly wit was something you were sure was burned into your brain for eternity. You squeezed your eyes shut before you turned, knowing what was awaiting you. There, sitting next to you was the very man you thought you’d never see again, riding atop a Varactyl, face shadowed by his Jedi cloak, but visible enough for you to tell he was smirking. 

“You gave me a bit of a scare there, darling,” Obi-Wan teased, and it was almost as if the last few months didn’t exist. That battle on Beor, you leaving the order, the excruciating amount of time you had spent apart - all of it washed away so  _ easily. _

“I didn’t die, did I?” You shot back, using all your strength to hoist your body up, feet finding the ledge your arms were wrapped around until you stood looking down at him. He smiled up at you, cocking his head. You looked good. You always did. But somehow, out of Jedi robes or battle armour, wearing simple clothes with no allegiances, you looked even more like  _ you. _

“I wouldn’t have let you.” 

You rolled your eyes, and then leaped from the ledge, straddling your legs around the back of the Varactyl behind Obi-Wan. 

“Kerta’s here.” You wrapped your fingers around the saddle by your side, creating a small distance between you and Obi-Wan. “And Grievous.”

“Why do you think I’m here, darling?” Obi-Wan mocked, and then pulled on the reins in his hands. The creature lurched beneath you and you gasped, the grip on the saddle not enough to keep your balance, so you instinctively reached out for the man in front of you, hands settling over the fabric on his waist. 

Obi-Wan chuckled, and you raised a hand to swat his shoulder. 

“Hold on tight,” he muttered, pulling the reins again and leading the Varactyl up. You kept your hands grasped around him tight as you moved, both out of fear of falling and because the moment you had laid your hands on him you weren’t sure you could let go. You moved closer, resting your head on his shoulder, and you felt Obi-Wan sigh beneath you.

The Varactyl, you heard being named Boga affectionately by Obi-Wan as he steered her up to the 10th floor, clambered skillfully across the rocks. He led her into an opening in the rock just above the floor you had seen Kerta and Grievous, Boga crawling across metal decking in the ceiling above the large room below.

Obi-Wan pulled on the reins of the Varactyl, bringing her to a halt, and you reluctantly but swiftly unwrapped your hands from his waist. You hoisted yourself off the saddle, landing on your tiptoes to keep your boots from making too much sound against the metal decking beneath you. Obi-Wan dismounted Boga after you, running his hand across her neck and patting her affectionately. 

“Alright, good girl,” he murmured, and the Varactyl cooed in response. “Wait here.” 

The two of you creeped quietly down the metal walkway, peering over the edge and into the room below. Kerta was off to the side, leaning against a wall as Grievous lectured to a group of Separatist leaders, pacing backwards and forwards before them. Droids were scattered everywhere, hundreds stretching back as far as you could see. 

Both of you silently assessed your surroundings, and you knew Obi-Wan was trying to formulate a plan. You watched him carefully, his hand poised at his chin, stroking his beard in thought. 

“Well, darling, what do you think?” He turned to you with a smile, and your heart fluttered. But the feeling was gone in a second, replaced by a flare of anger.

“Stop calling me that,” you snapped, and the flicker of hurt in Obi-Wan’s expression made you regret it instantly. “I’m sorry, I just,” you squeezed your eyes closed and pinched the bridge of your nose. “We… it’s been months, Obi-Wan. I don’t know why you’re acting like nothing’s changed.”

“Because I don’t know how to act any differently around you, my l-” He cut himself off by clearing his throat, turning away from you. “We’re about to fight a battle that could end the Clone Wars. I’m not going into that holding a grudge against my friend.” 

He forced himself to meet your eyes again, and you realised that Obi-Wan was not treating you like the secret romance he had spent the last two years hiding, but the friend you had never truly stopped being for the last 4 years.

“Okay then,” you smiled, taking a step closer to him, “ _ darling _ .” You mimicked his accent, pushing him playfully on the shoulder. He chuckled, and as you pulled your hand away, he reached up, clasping it in his own.

“I want to talk after though…” his eyes were pleading, tugging at your heart. You couldn’t bring yourself to pull your hand away, relishing in the feel of his hand in yours again. But you had to do something… say something.

“Obi-Wan, nothing has changed. You’re still a part of the Order, I’m not. You can’t… We can’t-”

“But things  _ have _ changed.” He pulled you closer, your forearms touching, chests merely centimetres apart, “Anakin and Padmé, they're expecting a  _ child. _ The… the Council are rethinking everything right now… the Republic, the Chancellor, why couldn’t they…”

What he was saying was too much.  _ So _ much. It offered so much hope and yet, it was oh so painfully familiar. You looked at him sadly, shaking your head so he trailed off. 

“Later, Obi-Wan…” you murmured, squeezing his hand. Obi-Wan nodded solemnly, dropping your hand. He glanced back down at the floor below, at Grievous and the fight that awaited him. He sighed, and then turned back to you. He wanted to say something else but he wasn’t sure what. He searched your eyes, as if they would give him the answer, and then for once, decided against saying anything at all.

He pulled you into him, hand snaking to the back of your head as he tilted your head to meet his lips. You kissed back almost immediately, eyes fluttering closed as you relished in the feeling you had missed so much. The warmth of his lips, the soft scratch of his beard against your chin, the slow exhaled breath from his nostrils fanning across your cheeks. 

He pulled away after a moment, and you blinked your eyes open, brows furrowed.

“What was that for?” 

He smiled down at you, hand moving to caress your cheek in a way that had you weak at the knees, almost forgetting where you were in this moment.

“I didn’t want to die without kissing you again.”

“Die?” You murmured with a smile, “where did your ridiculous confidence go, Obi-Wan?” You pressed your forehead against his and raised a hand to his chest. His heartbeat welcomed you like an old friend, and you clung to it, memorising its pattern so you would never forget it. Obi-Wan smiled back and his hand found yours, curling his fingers around your own and squeezing. 

“It left with you.”

And with that, he stepped away, leaving you dumbfounded and bewildered and  _ cold  _ without his touch. He shrugged off his robe, rolling his shoulders, and shot you one last signature Obi-Wan smile before throwing himself from the metal platform on which you stood, hurtling towards Grievous.

There was little you could think to do but watch as he landed before his opponent, everyone around him springing into action. It was because of your momentary awe that you didn’t see Kerta’s eyes move to you, a firm determination in her look after her chastising from Grievous about fleeing your duel that sent her into a blind  _ rage. _

It was only when you heard her primal scream, that your focus moved from Obi-Wan, and to the furious Sith Lord launching herself through the air with the full power of the Force behind her. You prepared yourself for her to reach you, stepping carefully as you analysed her movements and centering yourself. She reached halfway up, pushing herself off the rock wall and over your head, coming down towards you with her lightsaber raised above her. 

You twirled your lightsaber hilt around your wrist effortlessly, grasping it with both hands and raising it to so your green blade blocked her red one. Her rage was channelled into her strike, and it was almost as if the force rippled outward from your collided blades. You grit your teeth, bracing yourself against the metal decking beneath your boots.

Kerta let out another growl, lifting her blade from yours and swiping it underneath your arms, aiming for your legs. You spun out of the way of her blade, raising your own strike only for it to be blocked. 

It was the most matched battle you’d had with Kerta. In her rage, she was less predictable, desperate, and it made it hard to make attacks of your own, constantly finding yourself on the defence. 

She forced you backwards on the decking with each strike, the relatively thin platform forcing your battle to become more like a fencing match. After a few potentially fatal blows from Kerta, blocked by your saber, you managed to find yourself in a position to make an attack, doing so with swift grace. 

Kerta jumped out of the way, but in doing so, sacrificed her footing on the decking in the ceiling, falling to the ground below. You followed quickly, flipping elegantly from the platform and down to the floor on which Grievous and Obi-Wan were currently engaged in a fierce battle. 

It was when Kerta stood from her crouched landing, sinister smile on her face, that you had realised your mistake. Surrounding you now were at least a hundred droids, guns raised and pointed at you. 

“You could be stronger.” Kerta raised a hand to the droids, signalling for them not to shoot. If there was a time to be thankful for the Sith’s prideful dramatics it was now. “Better. What the Jedi taught you barely scratches the surface.”

“The Jedi taught me to never fear death, Kerta.” You began circling one another, lightsabers raised protectively across your face. “The Sith taught you to kill the defenceless and  _ flee _ .”

Kerta growl, and you knew you’d hit a nerve. You halted your movement, finally in the position you wanted to be in, your back to the entrance to the 10th floor. Kerta’s composure returned, frown morphing back into a sadistic grin. She raised her hand at the droids, ready to signal their fire, and you cracked your neck.

“If you had any respect for the Force you’d fight me on your own merit.” You spat, wanting to get a rise out of her. “Not let a bunch of  _ wiring _ do you work for you.”

Her nose twitched, and you could tell she was almost convinced. But, unfortunately, what you said before was all too true. Kerta feared death too much, and that fear outweighed any pride that would come from beating you alone. 

“Very well.” You nodded once, planting your feet a little further apart, bending your knees in preparation. When Kerta closed her fist, and the droids fired, you leapt into action. 

You and Yoda had always had a different fighting style. Where his was the fast-paced and aggressive style of Ataru, yours had been more in favour of the defensive Soresu. That didn’t mean you hadn’t been trained in your former master’s ways, however, and when the shots rang out around you, you used all your knowledge of the style to launch yourself into an acrobatic flurry of movement, twisting your body and your lightsaber to block each and every shot. 

Kerta watched you carefully, waiting for just one blaster shot to hit you, but it never did. Each fire of a red laser was deflected, ricocheting it off your saber blade and back towards the droids that fired them. You had successfully demobilised at least a quarter of the droids that had been firing at you when Kerta raised her fist again, halting the fire. 

You barely had time to land and find your feet before she was on you again, lightsaber baring down at you with a desperate anger. You just managed to block it, grunting under the force of it, but spun effortlessly out of the way, using your Master’s style to make swift strikes against the red blade of Kerta’s weapon. 

“You’ve already left the Order. You’re not a Jedi anymore.” Her voice was almost desperate, trying everything to sway you in your purpose. “You know their ways are corrupt.”

Her words had little effect on you, and you brought your lightsaber down in a flurry of swift strikes, each blocked shakily by the Sith Lord backing away from your attacks. You took a brutal swing with your weapon, the force of it bearing down on your opponent so much she had to bend one knee to the floor, both hands gripping her weapon tight. 

“You’re right. I’m not a Jedi.” You stared down at Kerta, seeing the fear in the eyes as she grit her teeth. You thought back to Ro’tala, the look on their face as the very person at the mercy of your attack now brought her blade across their throat. “But that just means I don’t have to arrest you, Kerta.” 

“FIRE.” She screamed to her droids, but before they could even shoot, another battle began. The 212th Attack Battalion descended from the ceiling, firing a symphony of shots towards the droids. Kerta growled beneath you, forcing your blade from her own and spinning out of your reach.

You attacked again, bringing down swift and elegant strikes that were blocked with difficulty. Kerta was losing ground, she was losing power and she was losing it fast. In one last act of desperation, she drove her lightsaber forward, aiming for your stomach, but you curled your body out of the way, making one last strike of your own that drove the green blade of your weapon through Kerta’s chest. You screamed at the effort, the power needed to drive a blade through flesh and bone much harder than the metal plates of a droid. Guilt washed over you for a second, but when you thought of Ro’tala’s lifeless body collapsing to the floor, of all the Vaerko that had fallen victim to her blade, of all the friends that had fallen victim to this war, you steeled your nerves.

Kerta gasped, eyes widening, and then fell to her knees before you, weapon cascading to the floor. She wrapped her hands around your own around your weapon, and you retracted the blade, crouching and reaching an arm out around her back. She fell into you helplessly, eyes meeting yours.

You cradled her through her last breaths, somehow unable to leave her lying on the cold metal floor of the 10th floor as she died. You watched the fear drain from her eyes, softening, and you squeezed her hand, smiling sadly down at her. With the last of her strength, she shook her head, squeezing back.

“You have no… idea…”

Her body went limp in your arms, and you paused for a moment before lying her against the metal ground, rising to your feet. You looked down at your defeated opponent and tried to blink back the tears. You weren’t sure why you were crying. Perhaps it was out of relief - that this battle was done. Or maybe for Ro’tala, completing your quest to avenge them. Perhaps it was because, outside of this life of war and lightsabers, of light and dark, Kerta Mayli was someone you could’ve been friends with.

You turned your back on her, facing the battle raging on before you. You noticed Cody ahead, and moved swiftly in his direction, slicing down droids in your path.

“Good to see you, Commander!” Cody called, as he expertly sniped two droids charging your way. You carved your blade through a droid by your side, grinning at your old friend. You didn’t correct him on your position, knowing in a way that such a title was merely a show of affection in a universe ruled by war. Cody nodded his helmet behind you, never moving his eyes from the battle at hand. “Picked something up for you.”

Parked behind you was the ship you had arrived in, M2 waiting patiently in the wing. 

“We need air support if you’re up for it?” Cody shot down another three droids and finally turned his head to you. You grinned at him, nodding. 

“On it, Commander.” 

Blocking a few blaster shots with your saber, you turned and ran towards your ship, patting a whirring M2 on the head as you leapt into the cockpit. You closed your roof, strapping yourself in and fixing your headset over your ears before letting out a deep breath.

“You ready M2?” You grinned, switching all the necessary switches on your dashboard into the right position. 

“WeEEEEeee.”

* * *

As Obi-Wan stared down at the blaster shot body of General Grievous, he thought only of how disappointing an end to his four years-long battle with the Seperatist General this was. He sighed, shaking his head, and then raised his fingers to his lips, whistling his Varactyl friend to his side.

She came barreling towards him instantly, high pitched squeaks ringing from her throat, and Obi-Wan jumped onto her back, patting her scales gently.

“Alright, girl,” he praised, smiling up at the battle that raged on above, now made more even with the arrival of Cody and the 212th. “Let’s go.”

He found Cody quickly, barrelling through battlefields and dodging blaster fire effortlessly. Cody looked up at his General, and Obi-Wan smiled down at his friend and commander.

“Commander, contact your troops. Tell them to move to the higher levels.” He instructed. Cody nodded, removing his helmet. 

“Very good sir. Oh, and by the way, I think you’ll be needing this.” He raised Obi-Wan’s lightsaber up between them with a small smile on his face. Obi-Wan smiled back. Well, there goes his plan of saying he’d bested Grievous in a battle of lightsabers. 

“Thank you, Cody.” 

Then, a ship swooped precariously through the air, firing down at droids. It jerked upwards quickly before hitting the ground, an expert and yet reckless move. He’d know that flying anywhere. 

“Who let her fly a ship?” He nodded at you, smirking down at his Commander who chuckled, returning his helmet to his head. Obi-Wan returned his attention back to the battle.

“Now let’s get a move on, we’ve got a battle to win here.” He pulled at Boba’s reins and she yipped in response, raising taloned claws into the air. She launched forward under Obi-Wan’s command, and he steered her towards the wall of the pit.

“Yes sir,” Cody called after him and was about to signal to his troops when a message flickered to life on his coms system.

Obi-Wan didn’t know what was about to happen, he couldn’t have known. But somehow, the Varactyl beneath him did. The moment the shots fired out from beneath him, friendly fire hurtling towards him instead of the enemy, Boga twisted her body around, using it as a shield against the shots. She screeched at the impact of fire, and Obi-Wan grasped tightly around her reins, desperate to move her out of the way… but it was too late, the damage had been done. 

She sagged beneath him, twisting, and suddenly he was upside down, his grasp on her non-existent, and  _ falling _ . He watched Pau city speed by him as he fell, he watched as the battle turned into not the Republic vs Separatists, but Clones vs anything that breathed. He watched as your ship dipped down and then was hit by rapid fire from a Republic deployment ship, an engine going up in fire smoke.

He wanted to scream, to do something. But he couldn’t. All he could do was watch as he free-fell down and down, watching your burning ship flying desperately upwards, searching for a place to land. Three more shots were fired into it, and he watched the other engine explode just as you reached the top of the city, now merely a fiery dot in the distance, hurtling towards destruction.

Moments before he hit the icy cold water at the base of the city, he couldn’t help but remember the last words you had spoken to him before leaving the order

_ “...staying on this path will kill me. It’ll kill us all.” _

You had been right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so much ANGST i'm SORRY


	7. Us and Them

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Order 66 separates you from all you have known and you're left searching the galaxy for home...

_ **─ 18 ʙʙʏ** _

_ Down and out _

_ It can't be helped but there's a lot of it about _

_ With, without _

_ And who'll deny it's what the fighting's all about? _

Since becoming a Padawan, your flying style had gone from unskilled and reckless to incredibly skilled, effortless and… un _ believably  _ reckless. You’d taken lessons from Anakin when you could, but had mostly figured it out on your own and, whilst your connection to the force and your utilisation of it when flying a fighter jet lead to positive results, your flourishes left even the most experienced Jedi crapping their pants.

You swooped down through the air, ignoring your ship's optics and using your connection to the force to assist you in aiming the craft’s blasters at the droids attacking other ships in the sky. At the very last minute before your ship would’ve careened into the wall of Pau City, you pulled the steering up.

“BeEEEP WEoEEooo.” M2’s binary echoed through your headset and you winced.

“Alright, you sound like Obi-Wan, you metalhead.” You muttered, twisting your ship in the air and firing again at another level, wiping out a dozen droids. An explosion sounded from your left, and in the corner of your vision, you noticed a Republic carrier ship explode, plummeting towards the bottom of the city.

“Where did that shot come from, M2?” You pulled at the steering of the ship, directing it downwards.

“Beep BEep.”

“10th floor? But the 212th occupied that floor.” You muttered, and then, it happened.

You were too late to stop it, the blaster fire from the 212th’s heavy artillery weapon on the 10th floor hitting your left engine and sending it up in flames. It must’ve been an accident. It had to be. M2 whirred beside you, panicked and loud.

“M2, can you isolate that?” You shouted through the coms, expertly manoeuvring your ship up and away from the fire. You flew upwards, trying to reach the surface to safely land, “What the hell are they playing at?”

You probably should’ve known it wasn’t a mistake. You probably should’ve expected the worse, but it was only when the second shot hit, blasting your second engine to pieces and setting the wing holding M2 ablaze that you realised that this was no accident.

Your breathing quickened as the beeping in your cockpit became unbearable. Everything was failing, you had no power, and you were running on momentum, willing the ship to have enough behind it to push it over the surface. 

“Come on, come on.” You pleaded, trying as many switches and buttons in the cockpit as you could to keep your ship from meeting the same fate as so many others hurtling towards the murky depths of Pau City. Another blaster shot hit the tail, and the heat behind your head became almost unbearable as you launched over the top of the city.

“Alright, M2, still with me buddy?” You yelled over the aggressive warning signals and chemical fires. You received a beep in response, faint and drowned out, but there all the same. Your ship began its descent downwards, and you did your best with what little control you had left of the steering to hopefully ease the impact. 

It didn’t make it any less painful when your ship hit the rocky ground, jostling you so hard you were almost sure your spine snapped. You grit your teeth, bracing yourself as best you could as your ship's momentum was slowed by the rough terrain. 

When the ship slowed to a halt, you immediately unbuckled, using the force to break through the glass roof and leaping out. The smoke around the ship was unbearable, and the smell of fuel burning made your eyes water, but you didn’t run from the wreckage. Instead, you dashed over the wing of the ship to where M2 sat. 

He was letting out little beeps of distress, head spinning, and you fought to get a grasp on him, yanking him from the astromech socket. He was heavy, and the flames licked at your legs, but you couldn’t leave him, finally getting him loose and jumping off the wing. With all your remaining strength, you pulled M2 across the ground away from the blazing vehicle until your back collided with a boulder and you collapsed, gasping for breath and fighting tears. 

As you watched the fiery mess of metal melting and creaking before you, all you wanted to do was scream. Your thoughts throbbed in your head. What just happened? Why did they shoot at you? What was  _ happening? _

You fought your own thoughts, shutting them down the moment they flitted into your mind, just watching as the fire got bigger and bigger and then, finally, shrank, nothing left to burn.

M2 beeped beneath you and you sniffed. You frowned, and M2 let out another garbled beep. You were crying? When did you start crying? You wiped your cheeks desperately, soot and grease covering your face but you didn’t care. You stood, crouching over your droid and examining his frame.

“Okay, what’s damaged?”

“Beep Boop beeP booooop Beep.” Tracker, Transmitter, Antenna, Shoulder Hubs, Shoulder Hydraulics, Projector… M2 rattled through a list of all his faults and you sighed, shaking your head.

“How about that sense of humour, buddy?” You collapsed to the floor next to your droid, bracing your hands on your knees as you stared out over your burning ship. 

“... FuUCk.”

You chuckled, but it turned into a splutter as the smoke got too much. Despite the ache in your bones and the burn in your muscles, you stood. You shrugged off your overshirt and lay it on the ground, hoisting M2 onto the fabric. You rummaged in your backpack, producing your cloak and wrapping M2 in that too, using some tactical rope and threading it through a knot in the fabric. 

“Alright, M2?” You asked the now swaddled droid, covering your mouth with your hand to avoid the fumes. M2 beeped through the fabric, and you hoisted the rope over your shoulder, grunting at the effort. 

You had enough sense to keep to the shadows of Utapau’s landscape, the swooping ships of the 212th flying overhead of Pau City, but you hoped that the flaming ship you were leaving behind was more than enough of a distraction to keep anyone from finding you. 

Even when your joints screamed and your step faltered, you pushed on, dragging your droid further and further away from the wreckage and the haunting sounds of a city being destroyed. When you thought you could go no further, the force churned inside of you, reminding you of your strength, and you pushed on and on until that feeling finally told you;  _ rest. _

When it did, you collapsed to your knees, hands reaching out to grasp at the sharp, ground. You whimpered, palms stinging and head throbbing, and you felt yourself sob. It ripped through you, and suddenly, it hit you as to  _ why. _

The vision you’d had on the ship to Beor. The faceless firing squad gunning down blurred figures… It all came back to you. The firing squad were the clones you had spent the last few years fighting side by side with. Gree, Cody, Rex… All of your friends, turning on you in an instant. And not just you… the entirety of the Jedi. 

It was like an aftershock of an earthquake, rippling out, shaking you out of the initial shock and reminding you of the damage. You felt it in your heart, that  _ agony.  _ So many lost. So many gone. 

This time, when the urge to scream grew in your chest, you opened your lungs and let it out. 

* * *

You waited until the cover of darkness to move again. You didn’t sleep despite your body pleading you for it. Every time you closed your eyes, your vision haunted you, and the faint sounds of blaster fire in the distance reminded you of what you had fled. Of those that had perhaps not been so lucky.

Of Obi-Wan. 

It took all you had not to dwell on thoughts of his survival. If your vision was correct, and he too had been turned on by his battalion… You stopped your thoughts in their tracks.

The winds on the surface of Utapau were unbearable, dust blowing into your eyes as you dragged M2 across the ground. M2 never complained as you struggled to pull him, occasionally knocking him over a rock that must’ve caused a little more damage. He took the knocks silently, knowing you were doing all you could to get the two of you to safety. 

Eventually, you reached a smaller sinkhole, and you collapsed on the edge of it. It was quiet and dimly lit with torches on the few levels. You unwrapped M2 from his swaddle, stuffing your robe and shirt in your backpack. 

“Alright, M2,” you huffed as you hoisted him as best you could into a standing position, assessing the bumps and dents on his body. It wasn’t too bad. “I’m gonna go down there and find us a ship.”

“bEEp BoOP.” 

You scoffed, shaking your head, patting M2 affectionately as you stood. “Don’t go getting sentimental on me now, buddy.”

“BeEp bO… fUcK.” He whirred, twisting his head as much as he could and you chuckled, turning to the sinkhole. You were tired, your muscles ached, and you knew in any other situation you would’ve asked for shelter and food and rest. But this was no ordinary situation, and every minute you stayed on this planet was another minute that the 212th could find you and finish the job. 

No, what you needed was a ship, and you were in no position to negotiate for one. 

You climbed to the first level of this sinkhole more carefully than you had the walls of Pau City, no longer driven by the urge to avenger your friend’s death, but cautious of your own waning strength and the limited sight you had in the darkness of night. 

When you reached the first level, you shrank into the shadows, pausing for a moment to listen out for anyone on guard or awake. There was nothing, only silence, and so you stepped out. You glanced around the dimly lit level. It looked like a small village built into the rock, homes lining either side of the level stretching into the ground. You took a step, and then felt a disturbance.

You whirled around, hand coming up to wrap around a spear being pointed at your neck. 

“Who are you?” The wielder was a Utai male, and his voice was shaky, nervous. You relaxed your grip on the weapon, knowing he would do you no harm. He was holding a lantern in the other hand, and his eyes were filled with fear. 

He reluctantly stepped a little closer to you and took in your soot covered skin and charred clothing. 

“You came from Pau City…” He murmured, astonished.

“You know what happened there?” You lowered your hand and he lowered the spear.

“We got a message from a friend… half the town has fled but… my family has lived here for generations, we...” 

You nodded, glancing around the deserted homes. 

“You should go. What’s coming is dangerous.” You gave him a stern look and the Utai swallowed. He too nodded solemnly and his face paled. “I need to borrow a ship if you have one spare.”

“There are a few abandoned on the lower levels. I can take you there.” He nodded to a speeder and you turned to walk towards it, the townsman struggling to keep up with you. 

“Is this the end of the war?” He asked nervously, and you clenched your jaw. 

“It’s the end of a war. But I fear it’s the start of something much worse.” You turned to him. You could’ve lied. You could’ve said yes, it’s the end of the war and given him some hope. But you had little to spare, and you were scared and tired. 

The stranger flew you to the lowest levels, where a number of ships did indeed lie abandoned. You approached the first one you saw, a worn-down old freighter with YT 492727ZED printed faintly on the side. The man hung back in his speeder, and you could feel the anxiety radiating from him. You turned back to him for a moment, hesitating.

“You and your family have a transport?” You asked, and then, softening your gaze, “because I’m heading to Beor if you need a ride?” 

The Utai shook his head, perhaps scared of you, or perhaps he still hadn’t made up his mind as to whether he was in fact going to leave his home. You gave him a short nod.

“Thank you,” you hoped that, beneath your exhaustion and dread, he could hear the sincerity, “May the force be with you.”

His face drained of its fear and you recognised the emotion fighting it’s way to the surface - determination.

“May the force be with you.” 

You shared a look, a silent acknowledgement of your shared resistance. Your common strength - Compassion. He put his speeder in reverse and you watched him fly back up to the top level, hoping that the determination you had recognised was to save his family from this planet’s fate.

* * *

You had intended to return to Beor. You always did. It pulled you from halfway across the galaxy, calling you home. But as you approached the planet this time, feeling the familiar tug of its gravity on your ship, your stomach turned. It wasn’t the same feeling you were used to. The burst of joy you felt when seeing a Beoran sunset didn’t hit you as you landed on the palace’s docking bay, the Ilut warriors weapons raised at your unfamiliar ship. 

When you had stepped off the cruiser, dishevelled and worn down, Ra’bana knew not to ask too many questions.

“Kerta?” 

“Gone.”

“For good?”

Your mind flitted back to the moment on Utapau, your green blade driven through the Sith Lord’s chest. You nodded. 

“Then Ro’tala has been avenged.” She nodded solemnly, and you opened your mouth to say more, to warn her of what was coming, of what had happened. But she raised a hand.

“You need rest, Y/N. Whatever it is can wait until the morning.” 

You weren’t sure if it could. But then, you weren’t sure what was happening. All you knew was that the force felt dark, the universe was being plunged into a shadowy fate, and you had lost so many friends without being able to tell who. 

It was only the next day when you shared what little you knew with Ra’bana, assisting her in overseeing the toppling of a Beoran statue.

“If you’re right... they’ll come for Beor.” Ra’bana sighed.

“Yes. Beor is still a valuable oil planet. It won’t be long before…” you trailed off as the group of Vaerko that had toppled the statue cheered, hugging each other and singing with unbridled joy.

“It seems unfair. That we just got our planet back from one regime only to have to defend it again from another…” Ra’bana shook her head, and you felt the frustration radiating off her. You knew it was more than that. If you were right, and someone else was coming for Beor, Ro’tala’s fight felt less significant than you both wanted it to be.

“I’m sorry, Ra’bana.” You raised your hand to her shoulder and squeezed comfortingly. You watched on as the celebrations continued, and you wished you could revel in their blissful ignorance. That you too could celebrate this immense victory. But all you saw was a party nearing its end.

“We’ve fought for this planet for centuries. We will fight for it still,” Ra’bana nodded confidently, and you admired her determination.

“What was this planet called before?” 

“Hmm?” She turned to look at you and you offered her a small smile, letting her know you were changing the conversation.

“I mean… I assume the Beoran’s named it Beor… What was it before they came?” 

Ra’bana smiled. “Vaer.” She said, and in her accent, it was very similar to the planet's current name in Basic, with some more complicated inflexions. You laughed, shaking your head.

“Vaer,” you repeated, and when you looked out over the forests and lakes, it finally felt right. Like poetry that echoed through the planet's air effortlessly.

You spent the next two days busying yourself by helping Ra’bana and the Ilut in any way you could, helping them strip the palace of its decorations and memorabilia or just helping them cook dinner of an evening. But at night, when you rested in the room in which you had spent your first night on this planet, next to the balcony where you had had your very first kiss with Obi-Wan, you were left unsettled.

You knew you should feel at home here. You knew after spending months helping them win this battle it was only right that you helped them enjoy it. But  _ of course _ you couldn’t. Not when the force nagged at your insides, tugging at your stomach and clenching around your heart. Something was wrong, and though staying here was logically right, it didn’t feel it.

You spent two sleepless nights tinkering with M2, finding parts and tools in the stores of the palace with which you tried to restore your droid to his former glory. He complained as you went. 

‘That’s a battle droid joint.’

‘That feels weird.’

‘I don’t like that colour.’

“Yeah well, I don’t think we have much choice here, buddy.” You murmured as you fixed new powerbus cables to his legs. Working on M2 provided you with a much-needed distraction and even though his complaining was irritating, it was another thing to focus on besides your thoughts. 

“Do you like it here, M2?” You murmured, searching for a spanner. 

“beEEP BoOOp.” 

“Coruscant? Really?” You scoffed, shaking your head. “You liked being hidden in the refresher all day?”

“BooOp Beep.” 

“You know we can’t go back to the temple,” you sighed, and M2 fell silent. You tightened the bolt on his leg, gnawing on your lower lip.

“Beep BeEEEP.” 

You froze and had to set the tool in your hand down as your hands began to shake. Tears stung your eyes, and you clenched your fists, turning your gaze to the balcony. You could almost feel him there, his arms around you as you swayed gently. You could hear the soft melody of his voice, singing songs to you you’d never heard before but were burned in your memory forever. You could feel him, and you clung to the hope in your heart that the last time you’d seen him wasn’t in fact the last. 

“I miss him too.”

Ro’tala’s funeral was your third night there. You had avoided everyone all day, keeping to your chambers and busying yourself with the last of M2’s repairs, fixing the projector, his transmitter and the antenna, before starting a reboot on his system that would take a few hours. After that, you kept to your balcony until the ceremony… thinking.

You wanted to leave, but you didn’t know where to go. Where in the galaxy was safe? Where in the galaxy still existed? Where in the galaxy had fallen to the shadows of the dark fate you had envisioned? Where were your friends, if any had survived?

As you gazed out over the familiar lake, you chastised yourself. Perhaps you were expecting too much. Perhaps surviving on this planet until the darkness came to you was enough. Perhaps-

The force inside you churned, and you knew that thought pattern was wrong. You shouldn’t stay here. But where could you go?

You left M2 in your chambers as you headed down to the lake for Ro’tala’s funeral, dressed in a black robe loaned from the tribe, the likes of which Ra’bana and a number of other warriors had been wearing the entire time you had been back here. You had been to a few Vaerko funerals in your time on the planet, but they were small affairs. Brief intermissions in the middle of a battle that had only ended two days ago. 

This funeral was something different. 

All Vaerko funerals were somewhat akin to what you knew as a Viking funeral on Earth. The deceased was dressed in their ceremonial robes, pushed out onto the nearest lake, and set ablaze by firing arrows shot by Vaerko warriors. Where the funerals you had previously attended were cobbled together with whatever you had on hand the night of their passing, this funeral had been planned meticulously, with all the time now afforded to you with the droid army defeated. It wasn’t just Ro’tala’s funeral. In some way, it was a funeral for all those that they had lost making it to this point. 

A number of Vaerko from other tribes had travelled across Vaer to attend, Ro’tala a uniting figure of this planet. The crowd gathered around the lakeside was immense, and you wanted to hang back at the rear, fearing your own reaction, but Ra’bana ushered you forward until you were on the very front row, besides the warriors, and a bow and arrow were thrust into your hands.

You felt numb as the processions started. You had hoped that the funeral would bring you some well-needed closure. Where the loss and grief you felt for your Jedi was faceless and had no end, this at least could provide you with some relief. A place to outpour your grief. But as Ro’tala was marched down to the lake and cast off, the crowd silent as their leader floated gently outward, you only felt even more numb. 

A horn sounded, and you and the warriors raised your bows and arrows in unison. A few Vaerko with torches walked along the line of soldiers, lighting the fuel soaked cloth at the ends of your arrows. They stood aside, and another horn was sounded, a hundred ablaze arrows soaring through the sky towards the raft on which Ro’tala lay. 

The raft went up in flames, and everyone watched on solemnly, silent aside from the occasional muffled sob from the crowd. You wanted to cry. You needed to. You wanted this feeling clawing at your heart to release itself in some form, but it didn’t. It remained, aching and stabbing, and you wondered if it would ever leave you.

* * *

The fire before you raged on into the night. The sombre affair of the funeral ceremony had turned into a celebration of Ro’tala and her life in the form of a traditional funeral feast. Though you wanted nothing more than to partake, you couldn’t bring yourself to force even the slightest bit of joy and found yourself nursing a brandy on the sidelines, not wanting to dampen the spirits of those dancing and singing merrily. 

Ra’bana approached carefully, hesitating a moment to make sure you wanted company. You gave her a small smile, and she perched herself on the seat beside you.

“You know I want nothing more than for you to stay here…” Ra’bana started, and you turned to her. somewhat shocked that she had launched straight into this topic of conversation. “But… you’re not home.”

You processed her words and wanted to argue. Vaer had been your home for so long. It had to be where you belonged. When you left the order, part of the reason was because of this very planet. If you didn’t belong here then…

“You were home here once. And… And if I’m wrong, and you’re sure you could be happy here, then I am very certain that you will be welcomed.” She gestured at the party before you, and then placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. “But I know you. You follow your heart.”

You felt your eyes well with frustrated tears, and you furiously blinked them away, digging your nails into your palms.

“Your heart isn’t here, Y/N.” Ra’bana’s voice was soft and reassuring. You had for so long feared your desire to leave Vaer. You had worried it was selfish, to leave them vulnerable to the unknown threat looming over the galaxy. Hearing Ra’bana acknowledge your turmoil, understand your conflict… it hit you. 

You leaned forward, bracing your elbows on your knees and covering your face with your palms as you sobbed into them. Ra’bana’s hand was on your back, rubbing gentle, soothing circles, a silent presence consoling you through your sorrow. It felt like you were finally grieving the numerous losses that had come in the space of 24 hours. Of Ro’tala, the only one you were certain of, and then all the others you could only assume. Luminara, Plo Koon, Mace, Yoda, Anakin, Ahsoka… Obi-Wan. All of your losses hit you at once, and it tore through you. 

You felt the darkness of attachment, the threat that the Jedi feared so much, and if you hadn’t been so aware of it, you might’ve succumbed. That moment could’ve been the very one that had you turning from the light for good. But a stubborn part of you, a part reared and shaped by the man you loved, clung on. 

_ Even the smallest of light illuminates the dark.  _

Your tears dried, and your sobs were reduced to sniffles. You sat up, and Ra’bana handed you your brandy. You took it with a grateful smile and drank the glass in one go.

“Thank you, Ra’bana,” you said sincerely, “I don’t know what I would’ve done if I-”

You were interrupted by the panicked whirred and beeps of a droid and you frowned, turning towards the palace. Rolling down the firelit stairs, a sparking cable trailing behind him, was your idiot droid. 

“BeepBoOPBEPFUCKKKbEEEEPbOooPFuuuuuCK.” 

M2 practically flew through the air as he sped towards you, jostling dangerously as he traversed the rocky shore of the lake. You leapt up, brow furrowing as you jogged to meet him.

“Careful, M2, I just fixed your treads,” you called to him, as Ra’bana jogged after you.

“BoooPBeEEPBOOOpbeepBEEEEP.” Your droid rattled out as you approached, halting in his tracks but spinning his head to indicate he still hadn’t calmed down.

“Slow down!” You muttered, trying to translate his binary. “Message? Empire? Force? What the hell are you talking about?”

You crouched, placing your hands on either side of his head so he stopped spinning. He let out another frustrated beep before his newly repaired projector compartment opened.

Blue pixels flickered to life, and even before they were completely formed, you knew from the shape of it who it was. You gasped, falling back to sit on the heels of your feet as Obi-Wan’s face appeared before you. Your heart skipped, and that familiar feeling tugged in your gut -  _ hope _ .

“This is Master Obi-Wan Kenobi.” 

Just hearing his voice sent a wave of relief through you, and you raised your hand to your mouth to stop the sob that threatened to escape your chest.

“I regret to report that both our Jedi Order and the Republic have fallen with a dark shadow of the Empire rising to take their place. This message is a warning and a reminder for any surviving Jedi. Trust in The Force.” 

The hope you had turned to dread, and only then did you realise how much you had been clinging on to the chance that your vision hadn’t been real. That what you had seen was a figment of your imagination. But now, as Obi-Wan told you that everything had collapsed, that the Order and Republic had fallen, you felt cold.

“Do not return to the Temple…that time has passed. And our future is uncertain. We will each be challenged. Our trust. Our faith. Our friendships.” 

Ra’bana’s hand fell to your shoulder and squeezed, reassuring, but also seeking comfort herself.

“But we must persevere. And in time, a new hope will emerge.”

You looked into his eyes and wished they weren’t just pixels. You wished he was here before you, real and tangible. Despite knowing he wasn’t, you raised your hand, trying to brush against his cheek, to feel something. As expected, they didn’t, fingertips tinted blue as you obstructed the hologram, left cold with nothing to touch.

“May the Force be with you, always.” 

His image disappeared, and you tried to grasp it again with your fingers. To keep it in place. To keep his eyes on yours. But blue light faded into darkness, and you were left staring at M2. You rested your hand on top of Ra’bana’s, swallowing the lump in your throat.

“You were right. This is worse than I thought.” Ra’bana muttered from behind you, and you sensed the fear in her voice. You had felt it too not too long ago. But as sharp as Obi-Wan’s words stung, they also stirred up something else inside of you. Steely, unwavering determination. You stood and turned your friend.

“Obi-Wan said we must persevere, and persevere you will.” You nodded, mustering all your strength and putting it in your words. “As you said, you’ve fought for this planet for centuries. And fight for it you will again.”

Ra’bana nodded solemnly, dropping her hand from her shoulders.

“You’re leaving aren’t you?” 

“If Obi-Wan is right, and the Order has fallen… it means someone wants the Jedi wiped out. Me being here will only serve to bring you more danger.” You pursed your lips, looking at your feet. “And…”

“You have to follow your heart,” Ra’bana finished softly, and when you looked back up at her, she was smiling. You both knew to whom she was referring. 

“Should I tell them?” You nodded to the party happening behind you and Ra’bana turned to look at her people, smiling sadly.

“No. No, let them have this night. I will tell them tomorrow.” She sighed, then turned back to you, reaching out and taking your hand to shake. 

“May the force be with you, Commander,” she smirked, and you grinned back, pulling her into a hug.

“May the force be with you, too.” You squeezed her tight, pulling back after a few moments and patting her gently on the arm. “Until we meet again, old friend.”

And with that, you turned back towards the palace, M2 whirring along beside you.

“BeEEp BoOoP.”

Where  _ were _ you going? You weren’t sure, exactly. You had no coordinates. No map. All you knew is that you had momentum. That seeing Obi-Wan alive had lit a fire inside you and you would do all you could to keep it lit. It was then that you realised that home wasn’t a place. It wasn’t Vaer. It wasn’t the Jedi temple. It wasn’t Earth.

It was, and always had been, a person. And you would cross the galaxy seven times over if it meant finding him again.

“We’re going wherever Obi-Wan is, M2.”

* * *

You discovered that your freighter ship was named  _ The Stellar Envoy  _ (a name you shortened to Stella). It had clearly been damaged in a Clone Wars battle and then shoddily repaired and sold to someone on Utapau. The amount of credits and time it took you to get it to run sometimes was enough to make you want to dump it on the next planet you stopped at for fuel, but somehow, you’d grown attached to the piece of junk.

M2 was hooked up to the system, playing Pink Floyd through the speakers as you hurtled through space, feet kicked up on the dash and sipping soup. It had been months since you had left Vaer, and you had spent the time searching the galaxy for Obi-Wan. It wasn’t an easy task. Asking around under the ever-increasing shadow of the Empire was dangerous, and a slip up could cost you your life. Not to mention, the mere suggestion that you were a Jedi could lead you right into the hands of the Chancellor and the rumours of the new Empire’s penchant for torture was enough to make you want to launch yourself into Wild Space and never look back.

So, you had crept around the galaxy quietly, under the guise of a lonely refugee searching for a home, and made your money in gambling and smuggling where necessary, using the name Vera Kale as an alias.

You had tried not to let it get to you or dishearten you in any way. Jedi were retreating into hiding across the galaxy and you knew the sensible thing would be to do the same. Except, that fire still burned bright inside you, and the force pushed you onward. The mere knowledge that he was alive, out there somewhere (at least, as long as nothing had changed since his transmission) was enough to keep you going. You fixed your broken ship. You paid for fuel. You landed on one planet and set off for another.

You were approaching a planet for a fuel stop - C-1T8NZ. A small, forested planet on the edge of Wild Space. Your next search point, after a tip-off from a force-sensitive pirate queen on Takodana, was Tatooine. 

You had seen some of the most beautiful places in the galaxy, planets with lakes that rivalled those on Naboo, and jungles that matched the ones on Vaer, and you had seen some of the worst places in the galaxy - planets overrun with crime, destroyed by war, and crawling with the dark side of the force.

C-1T8NZ erred on the side of the beautiful. It was green and luscious, with rivers winding through its landscape. It looked barely settled, aside from a cluster of buildings around the port in which you were coming to land, and the spattering of homes in the distance, acres away from one another. 

“bOoP bEEP.” M2 trundled over to your side, looking out of the window.

You kicked your feet off the dash and set your soup bowl aside, preparing to bring Stella to the ground.

“It does look nice, M2.”

You landed the ship on a makeshift port which was basically a trampled field on the outskirts of a small town. It looked nice. Small and sparse, but a home all the same. You switched all of the systems off on Stella, grabbed your satchel and hooded jacket, shrugging it on and pulling the hood over your eyes, and disembarked with M2 by your side.

People paid you little mind as you passed, a mismatch of species and races attending to ships in the port. On the edge of the port, a shack sat with a sign reading ‘FUEL’ in scrawny basic. You approached the vendor, keeping your eyes down out of habit.

“The freighter on the left, please.” You muttered. The vendor gestured to a Rodian leaning against the wall, who ran quickly towards your shift, beckoning a few others to help fill your ship with fuel.

“Credits or Wupiupi?” The vendor asked. 

“Credits.” You slid a credits card across the counter, and, out of instinctive politeness, looked up and met the vendor’s eyes with a smile. The Utai serving you froze, hand hovering over your card.

_ Shit, _ you thought, readying yourself to use a mind trick on the man before you to make a quick escape.  _ Shit. _

“You, you…” the Utai stuttered out, pointing a fat orange finger in your direction. You raised your own hand, ready to convince him to let you go without a disturbance, when he broke into a smile and laughed. “You saved my life!” 

You frowned, and then, as you focused more on his face, you realised who it was.

“You took my advice, I see?” You grinned at the Utai who had helped you find a ship on Utapau months ago.

“And a good job I did. The Empire destroyed my city a few hours after we left. The whole pit,” he made an explosion gesture with his hands, shaking his head. “You must stay.”

“I’m sorry, I have to-”

“Please, I insist. For dinner at least. My wife and children would love to show their gratitude to the Jedi that saved our life.”

You hushed him at the word Jedi, glancing around you nervously. He didn’t seem to care. Part of you wanted to say no. To continue on with your mission and leave this planet the moment Stella was refuelled and ready to go. But knowing this man had heeded your advice, that that fierce determination you had seen on his face was not the will to stay in his home as it crumbled around him, but to evacuate his family, pulled at your heartstrings. 

You pushed your hood from your face and smiled.

“Alright. Thank you…” you trailed off, realising you had never learned his name. 

“Kel-ah.” He reached out, and you took his hand in your own, shaking it politely.

“Vera.” You lied smoothly, the name coming naturally to you now. Even if Kel-Ah was a friend, you couldn’t take any chances.

Kel-ah assured you that Stella would be safe in the port, instructing the workers to keep an eye on it as he walked you through the town. 

“This is a nice planet you have found yourself on,” you commented, as you were led through a market packing up for the day. 

“Sanctuary is a home for refugees. Many came here after the Clone Wars destroyed their homes. It has its problems, but it’s a home nonetheless.” Kel-ah smiled. “My wife and I moved here and lived on a farm about an hours walk away from the town. It was nice n’all but being from Utapau we knew nothing about farming krill so we bought a place closer to town.” He led you up to a small, wooden home just a five-minute walk from the market, in a small cluster of similar looking homes.

Two small Utai girls were playing in the mud at the front, and when they saw Kel-ah approaching, they leapt up and ran to him. You watched on with a smile.

“Honey, can you come look at the sink again, I think the pipe is… oh, hello!” Kel-ah’s wife wandered out of the front door in a pinny.

“This is the Je- Human I was telling you about, Ten-oh.” Kel-ah stood and moved to stand beside his wife. “Ten-Oh, meet Vera. Vera, meet my wife.”

“It’s lovely to meet you,” you stepped forward, hands clasped in front of you, “you have a beautiful home.” 

The woman stared at you in shock for a second, before she strode forward and wrapped her arms around your middle, pulling you into a hug. You were taken aback for a second. It had been a lonely few months travelling the galaxy, no friends and no loved ones. Where your time on Vaer had been spent with friends, embraces and comforting touches, the last few months, with only M2 for companionship, had been void of such luxuries.

You hugged Ten-Oh back tentatively, patting her back as she sobbed into your jacket.

“Kel-ah has told me so much about you.” She sniffed, pulling back, and you frowned. Had that brief moment on Utapau meant so much. You had barely remembered it, that day a blur of fire, pain and grief, but as you looked around at the family that had made their home here, you realised that they wouldn’t have existed had you not crossed paths with their father. 

The meal Ten-Oh provided was humble, a stew of meat and some sort of starchy vegetable. It was delicious, and it took all your willpower not to stuff the entire thing in your mouth like an animal ravaging its prey. You had lived on soup and exo-protein wafers for months, and having meat and vegetables was enough to drive you insane.

Ten-Oh apologised the whole mealtime that it wasn’t something more spectacular, making pointed remarks at her husband that she would’ve gotten some Roba steaks from the market before it closed if she had known. You tried reassuring her that it was more than enough, unable to find the exact words to embody your gratitude at having something that wasn’t processed junk reheated in a nano-wave cooker. 

“You should stay here, y'know?” Kel-ah led you out to the back porch of his house as Ten-Oh took the kids to their beds. The porch looked out over a vast forest, trees stretching up like skyscrapers into the air.

“I’m trying to find someone.” You said, looking up at the sky. Something stirred inside you and you frowned.

“They're alive?” 

You hesitated, unsure as to how to answer his question.

“I hope so.” You turned your gaze back to him and smiled sadly. Kel-ah nodded, and opened his mouth to say something more, when Ten-Oh called from inside the house, the children wanting him to tell them a story. 

“Excuse me,” he said apologetically, and you gave him a reassuring smile as he headed back inside your home. You turned back to the forest.

The feeling stirred inside of you again, only this time, too potent to ignore or brush over. It tugged at your gut, and you pursed your lips.

Something was pulling you toward the forest. You weren’t sure what. The shadows called to you. It wasn’t dark, per say. You weren’t sure where it’s allegiances lay. It was unknown, mysterious, but it called to you and you answered.

You stepped off Kel-ah's porch and towards the forest, feet moving faster than your mind could process their actions. Your hand reached into your jacket, inside a pocket hidden in the lining where your saber hilt sat, and you curled your fingers around the cold metal. 

When you were in the forest, barely able to see what was directly in front of you, trusting in the force not to steer you wrong, you unsheathed the green blade that you had rarely used since that day many months ago. The forest floor was bathed in neon green light, and you tried to focus on what was beyond, ahead, where the force was pulling you.

You saw shadows move, and you raised your weapon, preparing for whatever it was to attack. It moved again, and you inched closer cautiously, taking in its size and position, establishing its distance from you, until-

“Too long, it has been, my Padawan.” Stepping out from the shadows, into the green light of your saber, was indeed your old Master. Your first reaction was relief - relief that it was not something dark or evil awaiting you. Your second reaction was joy, so unfamiliar and strange to you as of late that you barely recognised it, but it tugged your lips into a smile, and you felt the familiar swelling of your heart.  _ Someone _ was alive. 

“You have been on quite a journey, I sense.” Yoda smiled back at you. “Glad I am to see you alive.”

You wanted to ask him who else was alive. Who else had survived? Where had Anakin and Ahsoka been when the Order fell? Had the rest of the council been destroyed? Where was Obi-Wan? But a small glimmer of apprehension at being told the worst answers to those questions kept you from asking them - that Anakin and Ahsoka had been killed. That the rest of the council was gone. That Obi-Wan was not alive as you so hoped.

“I am glad to see you alive too, Master.” You crouched down, driving the hilt of your saber into the ground so the blade stood upright, keeping the two of you in the green glow of its crystal. 

“Many we have lost, much we have suffered.” Yoda nodded solemnly. “Failed to see this coming, we did.”

“No one could’ve known Palpatine’s strength.” You shook your head. You had learned fragments of the events that had occurred on your journey. That neither the Republic nor the Separatists had won the clone wars, but a darker force, led by Chancellor Palpatine, or rather, Darth Sidious, had risen from the shadows of war and seized control of the galaxy. Jedi were murdered by Clones they had once fought beside, and those that managed to escape were hunted fiercely by a new evil - Darth Vader.

“Doubts we had. Hesitant, we were. Listened more, perhaps, we should have.” Yoda nodded, and a silence fell over you. You pursed your lips, looking down at the ground and trying to gather your thoughts.

“I’m sorry I disappointed you, Master. I was…. I always trusted in the force. It is why I had to do what I did.” 

“Disappoint me, you did not, Padawan. The Order, perhaps.” He paused, and you tried to shut down the feeling of shame that crept up. “But gone, that is.”

You fell into silence again. There was so much you wanted to ask, but you weren’t sure where to start. So you, centred yourself as your Master had taught you, and started with the now.

“How did you know I’d be here?”

“The Force works in mysterious ways, Padawan. Pulled you here to me, it did. Not I to you.” He hesitated, looking out into the shadows behind you. He smiled knowingly and you frowned. “You were not the Jedi I came here to meet.”

You sensed a disturbance, and you reached for your saber instinctively, swivelling it around your wrist skillfully and grasping it with two hands, readying yourself for what was coming. A light was moving through the forest, and it was not red as you expected. 

_ Blue.  _

The light approached, and your heart thudded so hard you could feel it in your throat. The shadowed figure approached and then hesitated.

“Who’s there?” His voice pierced your lungs and the air was taken from you. You had played his message over and over again, just to hear him, and now here he was, in person, no longer tinny through the sound of M2 speakers, but real, his accent heavy in the air.

“It is I, Kenobi.” Yoda walked closer, and you hesitated before following, legs shaking. “And my Padawan.” 

You were close enough now that you could see the shadows of his face, half illuminated by the blue of his lightsaber. His beard was longer, as was his hair - a length more similar to that which he had sported when you had first known him. When you met his eyes, and he met yours, your heart stopped. You wanted nothing more than to drop your lightsaber and run to him, to wrap your arms around him and never let go. 

_ Finally _ , you had found him. Finally, you were together. Finally, you were  _ home. _

But you couldn’t. You were all too aware of the presence of your Master, and so you fixed your feet to the ground where you stood, a few metres away from the man you had crossed the galaxy in search of. 

“With the Skywalkers, is Luke?” Yoda asked, and it was only then that Obi-Wan’s eyes broke their stare into your own, looking down at the Jedi who had spoken.

“Yes. Yes, he is safe.” Obi-Wan confirmed, and then cleared his throat, his voice shaking. “And…and Leia?”

“With Bail Organa on Alderaan, she is.” Yoda nodded. 

Questions flooded your mind. Luke? Leia? Skywalkers? Alderaan? All the questions you had wanted to ask the Jedi consumed your thoughts. You had gotten by on what little information you could, trusting in the force, but now, with two Jedi who had probably witnessed the very thing you could not comprehend stood before you, you needed to know more.

Both men turned to you, and you knew your thoughts were probably loud, your confusion and desperation radiating off you. You sheathed your lightsaber, sliding it into your pockets where you kept your hands, clenching your fists around the fabric lining. You resolved to stay silent, understanding their meeting to be more important than your queries.

“Any inquisitors?” Yoda asked of the man before him. 

“Some rumours of one in Mos Eisley a few days ago, but there was another force-sensitive hiding there and they say they left with them. I’ve stayed in the Jundland Wastes since, visiting the boy once a month.” Obi-Wan explained, eyes occasionally flickering to you.

His hands twitched, longing to reach out to you. To make sure that you were real. He felt your presence in the Force, desperately reaching out to him just as he was to you, and it was enough to drive him insane. 

“Leave you now, I must,” Yoda announced over the loudness of both of your thoughts. “Much to talk about, the two of you have.”

Obi-Wan frowned. 

“But Master Yoda, the training-”

“Completed here, it can be.” He nodded at Obi-Wan and then turned his gaze to you. You met his eyes and he offered you a smile. “Together.” 

And then, your Master turned his back on you and walked into the shadows. 

You stood frozen, staring at the darkness in which he had disappeared until you could no longer feel his Force, a faint signature some distance away.

Wind rustled through the trees and then settled. 

“I…” Obi-Wan broke the silence, and you turned your head to him. He had removed his hood, and his eyes, once wary and stern, had softened. Your hands shook in your pockets, and you chewed your lips as tears welled in your eyes. 

In a flash, the two of you moved into autopilot. The lightsaber in Obi-Wan’s hand fell from his grasp, landing with a faint thud against the muddy forest floor, echoing softly. You both took three long, purposeful strides towards each other, heartbeats quickening as the proximity narrowed. When you collided, you did so with such force you were left gasping for air, lungs contracting at the weight of his chest against yours.

Your arms wrapped around Obi-Wan’s shoulders as he pulled you into him in a vice grip, hooking his arms under your own. You grasped at his robe, fists clenched around the fabric, and you felt him do the same with the leather of your jacket. You tugged him closer until you were sure there was no air between you, moulded together as if you were one object. Immovable. Together.  _ Home. _

“I thought you were dead,” he whispered into your neck, and you buried your face in the crook of his shoulder. He felt warm where you had been cold, soft where you had been hard, smooth where you had been sharp. You sobbed into him, and inhaled the familiar scent of cinnamon and soap. The calloused patterns of his fingertips pressed against the nape of your neck, and you practically whimpered with relief, fat tears rolling from your eyes and soaking through his robe.

“I looked… I was… all over… so far…” you choked out between sobs, voice breaking with each word. Obi-Wan shushed you gently, the fingers pressed against your neck massaging your skin in small circles, grounding you to him.

You weren’t sure how long you stood in his embrace, desperately clinging to him. Neither of you moved, aside from the occasional relaxing and clenching of your hands around the other’s clothing, reminding yourselves that this was real, that you were really here in one another’s arms. 

It was you who pulled back first, not because you wanted to, but because you wanted more to see his face again more. Your hands ran back over his shoulders, then traced up his neck and over his beard, cupping his face. He watched you cautiously, and then, raised his hands to wrap around your wrists, keeping your hands against his cheeks. You smiled, but he didn’t smile back. His eyes glazed with tears, and his lips quivered beneath his untrimmed moustache.

“Hey, hey,” you whispered, running your thumbs against his cheekbones soothingly, the pain in his eyes like a knife in your chest. “It’s okay.”

It didn’t stop him from breaking, the tears rolling down his cheeks and splashing against your fingers, his breathing short and desperate as the sobs rippled through him

“Anakin, I-” He cut himself off with a sob, and his head fell forward, his forehead pressing against your own. You sucked in a steady breath and held it, closing your eyes. Obi-Wan shook violently against you, hands tightening around your wrist. You let him let it out, using you as an anchor as he let out what you imagined was months of grief at once. 

**_What happened?_ ** You pushed into his mind, and Obi-Wan froze, his sobs slowing until he had composed himself. He hesitated, and then, using his grip around your wrist, moved your hand until your fingertips were pressed against his temple. You hesitated, opening your eyes to find Obi-Wan’s already staring into yours expectantly. He must have sensed your apprehension, because he gave you a short nod, urging you to enter his mind.

You closed your eyes again, and pushed through the force into Obi-Wan’s head, feeling his mind merge with your own. At first, there was nothing, then…  _ everything. _

You saw the holograms Obi-Wan had seen in the archives of Coruscant, Anakin kneeling before Darth Sidious, slaughtering the padawans. You saw Padmé, choked by her soulmate amidst the fiery background of Mustafar, lying discarded on the stone floor. You saw Anakin, launching forward with an aggression you had never seen him display before. So much rage and pain in his eyes, desperately slashing at Obi-Wan with his weapon. You saw him leap, and then fall, sliced in two by Obi-Wan’s blade, sliding into the molten lava below. You saw him reach out, plead for his Master, but you felt Obi-Wan turn away.

The anguish that ripped through both you and Obi-Wan buckled both of your legs, the two of you falling to the floor. You whimpered helplessly, and then, without even trying, projected your own thoughts to Obi-Wan. The vision you’d had, the fire and ash you’d seen morphing into the fire and ash of Mustafar. The voice, what had once been a mystery, now clear as day.

**_What have I done?_ **

_ Anakin.  _ You saw it coming. How had you not pieced it together sooner? Why hadn’t the force given you more? Why hadn’t it chosen a better person to show this to? Like Obi-Wan or Yoda? 

“Y/N, please.” Obi-Wan begged, and you dropped your hands from his face, shrinking from his grasp as you curled in on yourself, clutching at your stomach as the force inside you crawled towards darkness.

Obi-Wan felt your heartache consume you and reached out, trying to pull you back. He felt the darkness clawing at you and desperately tried to force it away. 

“Darling…  _ darling.” _ His voice, soft and pleading, pulled you in, away from your guilt and into the comfort of thoughts of him. “You couldn’t have known. None of us could’ve. You didn’t… Anakin made his choice. I made mine. We must live with them now.”

You reached your hand out and Obi-Wan took it, threading his fingers through your own. You sniffed as your sobs settled, and Obi-Wan waited patiently until you had calmed yourself. Then he raised his hand to your cheek and turned your face to look at him. You could barely see him in the darkness, but you could still make out his eyes, the curve of his face. 

“We’re going to be okay, darling,” he whispered, and another wave of calm washed over you. Still, the fear scratched beneath the surface, uncomfortable and nagging.

“How do you know?” You whispered back helplessly. Obi-Wan smiled, leaning closer so you could see the blues of his eyes.

“We’re together again.”

* * *

Barely a day later, and you were riding behind Obi-Wan on a speeder bike, following Kel-ah down a dirt track out of town and into vast fields stretching as far as the eye could see. In the distance, a farmhouse grew larger and larger. Kel-ah’s old home. 

You had begged him to let you pay him for it, the grateful Utai and his family nearly insisting you had it for free, as a token of gratitude for saving them on Utapau.  _ You _ had insisted on transferring him credits and had even given him Stella.

“Well, what are we gonna do with a freighter?” You muttered when Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow at your offering. 

“What am  _ I  _ going to do with a freighter?” Kel-ah chuckled but took the keys you had slid across his kitchen table.

“Strip it for parts, sell it, gamble it away in a game of Sabacc, whatever you want.” You shrugged.

The land, Kel-ah informed you, consisted of three fields, one growing wheat, one where Mortha, a cattle-like creature, grazed, and one covered in ponds where krill were farmed. Kel-ah informed you that he had been caring for the Mortha, and the neighbouring farmer had been taking care of the wheat crop, but the krill had been left to their own devices.

“Farming krill is a thankless trade, I tell ya,” he had said, shaking his head as you and Obi-Wan looked over the ponds from your new porch.

The farmhouse itself was small and consisted of four rooms. A living and kitchen area, with a sofa, a small kitchenette, and a warped old dining table. The second room was a bedroom, consisting of an old wrought iron double bed and an armoire, and the third was a small storeroom with no furniture whatsoever. Finally, a refresher, equipped with a water shower, a sink, a toilet and even an old tub, a luxury so often done away with in this galaxy’s modern society. 

You had practically no belongings between you, and all you had to unpack were a few trinkets, clothes you had travelled with, and some of the food you’d bought at the market. After Kel-ah had given you the tour and gifted you with a bag of Gatalentan tea, you had offered to return the favour and have his family over for dinner, but he had politely declined, citing that the two of you needed time to settle.

Both you and Obi-Wan (or rather, Ben, as he’d introduced himself to Kel-ah) waved your friend off as he headed back to town before sunset. You leaned against your porch railing, waiting until he was but a speck in the horizon before turning to Obi-Wan. He met your gaze and smiled, arm snaking around your shoulder and pulling you into his side. He turned his gaze back ahead and frowned out at the ponds that littered the field before your house. 

“I have no clue how to farm these things,” he muttered, and you threw your head back in a laugh. It was the first time you had done so in a while, and you relished in the feeling of it. 

Although on the surface things seemed easy between the two of you, and you had settled into actions of familiar intimacy quickly enough, the question of what you were and how you felt about one another lingered. You had discussed the fall of the Republic, Obi-Wan filling you in on what you had missed, and you had told him stories of the Empire’s reign across the galaxy, his hermit lifestyle limiting his exposure to the true terrors being inflicted. 

As to your feelings, you weren’t sure how to approach it, or whether you even should. Instead, you stayed as long as possible against his side, watching the sunset over your new home. 

“I was headed to Tatooine,” you murmured as the sky ahead of you turned pink. Obi-Wan looked down at you, brow furrowed. You took his silence as an encouragement to continue.

“Someone on Takodana said there had been whisperings about a force-sensitive on Tatooine.” You thought back to how Obi-Wan had said there had been rumours of the Inquisitors being in Mos Eisley and taking a force-sensitive away. You looked up at him, incisors pulling at your lower lip. “Do you think I would’ve found you?”

You knew the answer was no from the look in his eyes. He had hidden away on Tatooine, and, if he had been in the Wastelands, even if you stayed for a year you wouldn’t have discovered him, especially if he didn’t want to be found. Even though he thought it, Obi-Wan didn’t say it.

“We found each other here. That’s all that matters.” He unravelled his arm from your shoulder and turned so his whole body was facing you. He looked as though he wanted to say something else, but as usual, he held back, and you knew him well enough to know he was in his head. 

“Have you slept at all in the last 24 hours?” Obi-Wan raised a hand to your cheek, swiping the pad of his thumb under your eyes. You grinned.

“Have you?” 

Obi-Wan matched your smile and then sighed, dropping his hand. 

“You should rest. You take the bed, I’ll take the sofa.”

You wanted to challenge him. You wanted to remind him that the two of you had shared a bed many times in the last five years. But you held back. You were both fragile, and perhaps you had to take a few steps back before you could move forward. Everything the two of you had ever known had been turned on its head in a matter of days and that included the relationship you had once had.

“I can take the sofa. Stella had a bunk with a mattress. I can’t imagine the caves of Tatooine had anything as comfortable.” You smiled and reached out to lay your hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder, squeezing gently. He smirked back, crossing his arms over his chest.

“All the more reason to take the sofa. I’ve got to ease myself back into luxury, darling.”

* * *

Sleep hadn’t come easy to you since Utapau. Even after Vaer, and the glimmer of hope from Obi-Wan’s message, you never slept more than a couple of hours, and each night was plagued with nightmares. Of Utapau, of your vision, of images concocted by your deepest fears and the threat of the unknown. 

That night on Sanctuary was no different. In fact, it was even worse.

You shot awake in the dead of night, and you were brought with a crashing start back to reality. Where your nightmare, visions of Mustafar, had been hot and burning, the air around you was cool and soothing. Where your nightmare was loud, crackling fire and bubbling magma, the room you awoke in was silent. 

You checked your watch, the digital display telling you it was 2:05 am, and you sighed, rubbing the heels of your palms against your eyes. It was the most sleep you’d had in a while, but still you felt as though you hadn’t rested at all, the last few hours merely a subconscious torment rather than a time of rest. 

You rose from your bed, deciding to make yourself some tea and sit on the porch until sunrise. Carefully, you padded barefoot over the wooden floors of your new house, hoping you wouldn’t tread on a loose board that would wake Obi-Wan, sleeping on the couch.

When you made it to the kitchen, you slowly and carefully retrieved the kettle from the cupboard above the stove, lighting the cooker and tipping water from a jug on the table into the kettle. You leant against the counter as the water began to boil, mind racing with thoughts of your nightmares. 

“No…” It was soft, faint, but it made you jump, all the same, head snapping up to find Obi-Wan’s blanket-covered body in the shadows. “No.” 

You watched as he stirred, and then stilled, and you hoped that was the end, praying he wasn’t as haunted as you were by all you had seen. Not three seconds later and your hopes were dashed.

“Y/N,  _ NO! _ ” He practically shouted, and his body contorted beneath the blanket. You rushed over instinctively, kneeling before him. 

“Hey, hey,” you soothed, reaching out and placing a hand over Obi-Wan’s clenched fist. He jerked at your touch, but you didn’t remove it, running your fingers over his hand gently. His eyes shot open and found your own, breath quick and heavy, panting. For a moment, the look in his eyes was unfiltered and uncontrolled. Fear, pain and anguish, so potent it made your heart stop. Then, he turned onto his back, his gaze up to the ceiling, and tried to control his breathing. You stayed crouched beside him, unsure as to what to do next.

“What time is it?” He finally asked, voice hoarse.

“2 am,” you whispered. He turned back to you, and you sensed he had gathered some more control over his emotions, his eyes no longer so desperate.

“Why are you awake?”

“I had a nightmare. Couldn’t get back to sleep.” You shrugged and stood. Obi-Wan sat up, and concern crossed his features.

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

You did. You wanted nothing more than to lean on Obi-Wan like you had done before, to spill your fears and troubles and receive his loving support. But now, remembering his pain-filled eyes, you couldn’t bear the thought of burdening him with any more than he was already carrying.

“No. Come on, you can take the bed.” You smiled sadly. Obi-Wan was unconvinced. He looked over to the kitchen, noticing the kettle on the stove.

“You’re making tea?” 

“Yes.”

Obi-Wan nodded and stood. You watched as he moved to the kitchen, once shadowed face now lit by the fire of the stove. You approached him cautiously, hands crossed in front of you. He removed the kettle from the stove and reached for the ceramic pot in which you had stored the Gatalentan tea. As he stirred the leaves into the water, you moved to the dining table, sitting on the chair facing his back. 

“I was… It was about Utapau. Order 66,” Obi-Wan said, not moving his attention from the brewing tea. “When it… the order came through I… I fell and I could see you. Then, they fired and your engines… I thought you were gone.” 

You didn’t respond, you didn’t know how to. But even in your silence, you watched as his shoulders relaxed a little, the remaining tension from his nightmare flooding out of him. You realised then that Obi-Wan was trying to get you to open up too. He knew that sharing would make you feel better because it made him feel better.

“I was… Anakin. Not a memory but… my vision from when I left. His voice and the fire…” you paused, waiting for Obi-Wan to tense up. It might’ve been your vision, but it was his reality. “I just feel s-suffering.” You hung your head as the tears began to fall, your voice cracking. You didn’t see Obi-Wan turn and take the seat across from you. It was only when you felt his hand reach across the table, wrapping around your own, that you looked up.

“Do you think it’ll ever end?” You whispered, and Obi-Wan pursed his lips. He slid a cup of tea over towards you. He wasn’t sure what you were referring to. The Empire or the nightmares.

“Someday.” He said, and he was sure. 

You both sat in silence drinking your tea, Obi-Wan never moving his hand from yours. It grounded the two of you, and the longer Obi-Wan held onto you, the more he felt his grief slipping away into the recesses of his mind, his thoughts consumed only with you. 

You finished the last dregs of your tea, and set the cup down, smiling at the man across from you. You squeezed his hand and stood.

“You take the bed now.”

“Y/N, please, I-” Obi-Wan stood, stepping closer to you and shaking his head. You smiled again, dropping his hand from yours.

“No, I insist. I’m going to sit on the porch for a little while.” 

Obi-Wan’s brow furrowed, thoughts swimming in his mind. Then, clarity. He nodded.

“I’ll just get my jacket.” You murmured and walked into the bedroom. Obi-Wan followed behind you, watching as you collected your leather jacket from the wardrobe. 

“Goodnight.” You gave Obi-Wan a warm smile, before turning and heading towards the door. 

Obi-Wan steeled his nerves and stepped forward, wrapping his fingers around your arm, halting you in your tracks.

“Wait…” His voice was barely above a whisper, but you turned to him anyway, frowning. He swallowed, then stepped even closer, barely inches between you. He took the jacket from your arm, discarding it on the floor without a second thought. 

“Stay,” he begged, “please.” 

His eyes softened, his guard dropped, and a more vulnerable Obi-Wan was exposed. His grasp around your arm wasn’t commanding, but it tightened needily, keeping you in place. You searched his expression for even the remotest sign of doubt. There was none, and so you nodded slowly, letting him guide you towards the bed. 

It was awkward at first, both of you climbing in and under the covers in silence. You weren’t sure whether he wanted you close or just there, so you hesitated, laid on your back, head turned towards him. 

Obi-Wan moved onto his side, looking at you, and hesitated too. Then, he scooched closer, and you took that as a sign to turn on your side as well, arm reaching out to settle on his waist. At the feeling of your touch, Obi-Wan smiled, his hand rising to press against your cheek.

“Remember when Cody caught you in my bed?” He chuckled, and you raised your eyebrow at him. It had been after a particularly stressful mission and, after narrowly escaping with your life, you had found your way to Obi-Wan’s chambers, needing him to hold you close. He had done, letting you sleep in his arms as he ran a hand through your hair soothingly, humming an unfamiliar song until you had fallen asleep. You had awoken to Cody knocking on the door, before coming in without a second thought, relaying some news that you had long since forgotten. He had frozen, stuttered out an apology, and you had feared that Obi-Wan would freak out and push you away. Instead, after a moment, he had laughed, arm never moving from around you.

“What if he-?” You had started to ask, and Obi-Wan had shaken his head, amused. 

“I trust Cody with my life.”

Now, in this bed, you smiled at the memory, trying to ignore the pain that came with thinking about how Cody had turned on you like that. Instead, you focused on the reason you knew Obi-Wan was bringing that story up. He was trying to get you both back there. To that ease in each other's presence. 

You moved closer, bodies pressed tight together, and Obi-Wan lowered his forehead to rest on yours.

“I thought I would never see you again.” Obi-Wan sighed, but he was not sad, instead, a smile was tugging at his lips. You raised a hand to his lips, tracing the pads of your fingers over the soft skin.

“We always find a way,” you murmured, and leaned in, pressing a soft kiss at the corner of his lips. He shifted his head, and then pressed a kiss eagerly against your retreating lips, the pressure of his palm against your cheek a little more urgent. He held your lips against his for a few seconds, relishing in the warmth of your kiss, the grounding powers of your lips against his. 

“Y/N?” He pulled back just a little, voice whispering into the night. You hummed, as sleep threatened to consume you, eyes unable to open. Obi-Wan smiled, shaking his head. He pulled you close, resting his chin on top of your head as you nuzzled into his neck. 

He wasn’t sure if you were asleep when he spoke again, your breath steady against his skin. He said them anyway, and even if you didn’t hear him, the words were a promise to himself anyway.

“I’m not letting you go this time, darling.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE ENDING IS SICKLY SWEET BUT I HAVE BEEN TORTURING MYSELF AND YOU FOR TOO LONG SO I THOUGHT I'D THROW IN A BIT OF *gasp* THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED?! TROPE


End file.
